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upon erebus' unspoken assent, absinthe dips her head in a single, curt nod before reaching out, gripping the deoxys by the arm and selecting a vein from the fine tracery beneath the arm it creates. that it is capable of such drastic and sudden transformation is enough to make absinthe wonder what it's body is truly doing beneath the mask, and what she would be able to uncover about this once she manages to get to the bottom of it.[break][break]

she guides the needle in to the arm, and narrows her eyes as a drop of liquid beads up beneath the skin, before being pulled swiftly into the barrel without the need to puncture a vessel—does it have an open circulatory system...? absinthe fills it partially before withdrawing the needle and capping it once more, then motions for the creature to relax once more. "very good," she says. "you are done."[break][break]

she steps back to the samples and jots down quick notes onto a piece of parchment before setting it aside and reaching for multiple separate devices: a vial of unknown liquid, a centrifuge, a computer-like device with a large touch screen. in silence, absinthe works—distilling the dna with a chemical, separating lipids and proteins with the centrifuge, sequencing both genomes with the next generation sequencer. thirty minutes pass. then, absinthe peers down at screen on the computer-like device. images flash therein.[break][break]

then, suddenly, absinthe lifts her head. her brows are raised and her pupils are dilated as she glances back at makoto.[break][break]

"...interesting results," the chemist muses with a weighty tone to her voice. "would you like to see what i am seeing?"

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there is something new about evelyn tonight, something alive and shimmering in her movements. absinthe might have found it infectious if she were still capable of such happiness. instead, she follows half a step behind the other woman, holding herself tight as if to keep her skin from crawling away.[break][break]

"i don't know," she admits, suspicious. it's been years since she's done anything but work, years since anyone has tried to pull her away from her missions. it feels unnatural, wrong. her eyes flick up towards the neon reflections on the buildings, having to remind herself that chemicals are more potent when allowed to rest. the night is theirs, eve had said.[break][break]

absinthe tries not to doubt her words.[break][break]

"wherever it is," absinthe muses, green eyes betraying no emotion as they scan across the figure beside her. "i can only pray it will involve alcohol."[break][break]

there is no other way she will be able to withstand a night of joy.

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even amidst the crushing darkness, the scalpel's razor edge ripples like water with its speed. absinthe slices down blindly but with lethal precision, cutting cleanly through leather and wiring alike, her lips curling upwards as the rush hits her.[break][break]

that smirk is wiped away in a flash of brilliant blue light.[break][break]

absinthe watches in growing horror as a pikachu materializes between her and her intended victim, electricity crackling in the air. she has only a second to recognize it - as well as the crackling feeling of a sub-par discharge as it arcs towards her - before the attack slams into her body, making her muscles lock up and her nerves scream.[break][break]

she grits her teeth behind her mask, her scalpel falling to the damp earth below as her arm spasms. still recovering, she looks up at her attacker, vision swimming as pain lances through her with each movement. then, with that mad fury that she keeps so well hidden boiling up inside her again, absinthe sweeps down to collect her knife, eyes flashing dangerously.[break][break]

let them come. her wounded trypsin coiled around her shoulders, even she is eager for blood. absinthe could never tire of proving how far she has fallen. it seems to be the only thing she's good for these days.[break][break]

"let's make this just between us, shall we?" she hisses, and her arm, rising with smoke, flicks for the briefest moment. on cue, trypsin slides off of her shoulders and levels a NIGHT SLASH directly at ollie's pikachu. for the briefest moment, the snakes coiling body hides the way absinthe lunges forward once more, blade seeking the ranger's flesh.

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absinthe hums softly. doctors were... fine. they were practically minded and could be useful. but they could also be squeamish, and they could also have morals. at the mention of grunts, though, the chemist nods.[break][break]

"grunts are adequate," she says shortly. "as long as they are not entirely useless. i will only tolerate so much incompetence."[break][break]

but then lulu turns to her with a question about herself, and absinthe stiffens. her muscles tense beneath her dark clothes, her hand clenching briefly around the edge of the counter. why would she ask such a question?[break][break]

then again, absinthe thinks, the chances of lulu knowing that the snake pit is quite literally her home are rather low. most people are not familiar with the sheer extent that grief has ravaged her life, nor that absinthe often finds herself drifting away on a dirty mattress in the small room above the bar.[break][break]

"there's nothing to tell," she says curtly. "i was handed an opportunity on a silver platter, and i saw it fit to begin preliminary research then and there. the bar is little more than a front for my true passion anyways." there is no vulnerability in her voice, not even the slightest tremor. she's been burned before by women like lulu flint, and she's not interested in being burned again.[break][break]

then, her eyes meet lulu's. "mmm. and you? why such investment in lucid dreaming?"[break][break]

a prying question for a prying question, though absinthe does not delude herself with the thought that lulu may answer honestly, or at all.

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there was a time, once, that the chemist was hopelessly enamored with beauty. she sought it out with reckless abandon—in her husband, in her surroundings, in the care she took with her appearance. yet when everything was snatched away, so too was her attraction to the elegant things in life. perhaps that explains her fondness of the toxic moth. beauty is such a temporary, dangerous thing to dedicate oneself too.[break][break]

there are plenty of absinthe's experiments evelyn takes no issue with touching, with dirtying her hands. and god, the girl is talented. a stunning handler, it seems. truly limitless. this brings a strange comfort to absinthe. she begins to hope evelyn hasn't changed much at all.[break][break]

beauty is fleeting. rot tends to last forever. this, absinthe knows well.[break][break]

the garbodor is caught, and her frosmoth is recalled with a flick of absinthe's hand. she glances at evelyn.[break][break]

"yes, lucky me," absinthe agrees with a soft snort, the closest she allows herself to laugh. in this world, all that separates the divine from the refuse is luck, opportunity. and the line blurs with every dark choice made, with every vile deed accomplished. all the beautiful things absinthe used to protect have been undone by the cruel hand of fate.[break][break]

it's easier to control the monstrosities; the beauty tends to slip through her fingers.[break][break]

they continue down the tunnels. absinthe disregards the shadows of two pokemon with a shake of her head, instead allowing her gaze to linger on evelyn's side profile. after a moment, she speaks. "what made you want to agree to join team rocket?" absinthe says finally. "it seems beneath you."

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at the brush against her mind, absinthe shudders involuntarily, but that shock is swiftly replaced with an underlying hunger: this is the first time she's encountered a deoxys, and that it would be able to reach out with such effortlessness, to bend through the innate security systems of the mind and reach into wherever it so pleased, was thrilling to her. it takes the simple presence of makoto standing behind the deoxys, seemingly unfazed, to reassure her: it's not malicious, just curious.[break][break]

"all i'll be doing with you is the same procedure as with makoto," absinthe reassures the creature, with a gesture to the single remaining syringe on the countertop. "sample collection via needle on your arm and nothing more."[break][break]

she picks up the needle, uncapping it for the second time that evening. she is unsure if the creature is bloodless or not, but hopes that the needle will manage to draw up any kind of fluid, as is necessary for testing. the chemist turns to the creature and she reaches out a hand.[break][break]

"may i?"[break][break]

her eyes flick down to deoxys' arm, a silent indication of what she intends.

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something fierce and dangerous lights within absinthe's eyes as the gas takes effect, latching onto the weak flesh of the rattata and eating it away from the inside out. this death is not as quick as some of her other toxins, it takes time and patience to brew inside of the rattata's veins and cause suffering that she hopes feels endless, even if it is over within a few minutes.[break][break]

himiko's assessment is not wrong. it's true that this has been absinthe's life's work, everything she has been working toward for so long, and it fills her with a sense of dark satisfaction when she sees the fruits of her labor rewarded so deliciously.[break][break]

she hums softly in response to the other woman's compliment, watching as the light from the laboratory glints off the vial and casts shadows over her eyes. still, there is a furrow in her brow, and her mouth is pressed tightly together as if holding back some flood of feeling. she says it so easily—a beautiful woman. absinthe does not feel beautiful. she does not even recognize herself. how differently would himiko feel if she saw what lies beneath absinthe's mask?[break][break]

absinthe already knows the answer. digust, pure and simple. it's what absinthe feels every time she looks into a mirror.[break][break]

"grudge is an understatement," she says simply, finally, snapping her gaze up from the corpse of the rattata to fix himiko with a strange look. "i'm out for blood."[break][break]

something haunted crosses her face for a second before disappearing. "and i won't rest until i get it."[break][break]

a brief pause, and then absinthe meets himiko's eyes. "...do you have a dream? something that won't let go of you?"

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something cold licks at absinthe's bones. the urge to wring the long neck of the serpent lays heavy and hard in the chemist's muscles. its scales would rip apart under absinthe's marred palms. the pleasant heat of dragon blood would warm her wrists. it is all she wants. a dream materializes in the haze of her thoughts—she wants to kill the woman in front of her.[break][break]

she wants it all. she wants it more than she wants air in her lungs. but absinthe rarely gets what she wants.[break][break]

as if the gods are mocking absinthe, freya's very nature seems to contort into something that sucks all the light from around them. there's a strange flip in her stomach, a cold fire pooling in her belly when absinthe sees the dark, inky black infect the whites of the woman's eyes.[break][break]

genuine fear, icy and gripping, plants a seed in absinthe's core.[break][break]

and she relishes it.[break][break]

the arrow comes, and absinthe does not have time to evade it before a vice wraps around her knee, tearing skin and nerves and coating splintered bark in crimson. she has to bite her tongue to muffle her pained yelp into a more enraged sort of gasp. through watering eyes, absinthe grits her canines and begins moving back towards the retreating figure of tryptophan, now shielded by a particularly thick trunk.[break][break]

grief grapples with determination in her bated breath. she leans against the tree and waits for the shockwave of the earthquake to hit, splinters showering the two upon impact.[break][break]

there is silence. the ground stills. the dust still settling as absinthe flicks her head up to see what damage has been done. the tree that once protected them is cleaved in two, having acted as the only barrier between absinthe and a particularly depressing end. it is with sudden finality that absinthe realizes that she is outmatched.[break][break]

but rage remains, and it clouds her logic as she looks down to tryptophan, who stares back up at her. they cannot panic. absinthe is guiding the both of them through. tryptophan trusts her, somehow. though there's an irritating, shallow hum weaving through her legs and lower back, it's nothing more than further proof absinthe cannot trust herself to break. she rights herself, desperate grin intact as she turns back to freya, peering through the gap left by the shattered tree trunk.[break][break]

"strength sap," she hisses into the quiet.[break][break]

tryptophan anchors himself into the mulch and dirt where he stands, and long, sweeping tendrils suddenly extend from his body and burst towards freya in the hopes of latching onto her arms, her legs, her shoulders, and stealing from her the power she owns—a power absinthe herself wishes she could relish.

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absinthe watches in horror as sanguinarine's attack misses its mark, the crobat's body contorting in pain as he struggles to keep himself airborne. the chemist feels a twinge of guilt, a flicker of doubt in her decision to push him so hard. but it's too late now. too late to recall him, too late to take it back.[break][break]

the crobat responds with a weak screech, his wings beating slower and slower as he tries to regain his altitude. but he's too slow, too weak. the pidgeot's AERIAL ACE smashes into him like a freight train, sending him hurtling towards the ground in a sickening display of raw power.[break][break]

absinthe watches as her friend falls, her heart leaping into her throat. she can't breathe, can't think. all she can do is stare in horror as sanguinarine crashes into the earth, his body crumpling like a paper airplane.[break][break]

there is a moment of stunned silence, a beat of uncertainty as absinthe struggles to process what just happened. and then, without warning, she snaps.
"sanguinarine!" she screams, her voice shrill and piercing. "get up! get up and fight, you worthless piece of shit!"[break][break]

her words are harsh and cruel, filled with a venom that she can't control. she's not thinking straight, not rational. all she knows is that she's losing, and she can't stand it. she won't stand it.[break][break]

but the crobat does not move. no matter the amount of screaming, he does not move. knocked out, injured almost beyond repair. absinthe's face falls.[break][break]

she has betrayed him. she has committed a grave sin.[break][break]

any normal person would run at this point. absinthe, though, drawn forth by a bloody fury, continues. she sees red. even as she recalls her crumpled crobat into a pokeball with a flash of light, she cannot control the fluttering rage in her heart. it seeks to consume her whole. her mind no longer grasps strategy as she reaches for yet another pokeball.[break][break]

from this pokeball, a shiinotic emerges. when it emerges, it is staring at absinthe from the ground, looking up at the tree she is perched upon. she hates it. she would sooner send it to hell than embrace it. nonetheless, it emerges.[break][break]

"sleep powder," she commands, voice cold and slight, almost tiny. the shiinotic complies as misty purple spore emerge into the air, aimed directly for josh and his steed.

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absinthe considers makoto's expression at length, and the chemist's head tilts the slightest amount. perhaps the mention of samples was enough to leave them apprehensive. there's so much red tape around scientists being offered the opportunity to work on a live specimen, human or otherwise, and perhaps absinthe understands that well.[break][break]

the best materials at her disposal had already taken their last breaths.[break][break]

still, it wouldn't do to comfort them. not necessarily. it wouldn't do to set any client of hers at ease. she would make an exception for the deoxys, though.[break][break]

"i'll take every precaution with erebus," she assures, beginning the routine of prepping sterile syringes and vials. "it will just be a prick of the needle, and it should have no need for any further testing beyond that."[break][break]

she retrieves one capped needle, flashing it beneath the dim lights before removing the cap and revealing the sharp tip beneath. she indicates for makoto to rest their arm, palm up, upon the counter, watching with eyes that may have been startlingly sharp, if makoto could have recognized that cold glint in her eye.[break][break]

"hold still," she orders, before sliding the needle into the flesh of their elbow with such precision and quickness that it barely registers, barely stings. just a flash of pain, only a single pinprick, and then the needle retreats, leaving the skin altogether.[break][break]

absinthe replaces the cap upon the needle and sets it aside, then returns her eyes to makoto. "you're done. please bring out erebus."

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absinthe's eyes flash, nigh indiscernible beneath the shadow cast by the curve of her inky black hair.[break][break]

"perhaps," she says. "you know as well as I do that there is always a possibility. with the right tools and enough time. if we could isolate the active components and compounds of the toxin in your houndoom's venom, maybe."[break][break]

the chemist makes a sound at the back of her throat, wet and considering, like sludge bubbling in a beaker. her hands go lax at her sides. "cure, counter, or prevent," she muses. "there are potential options if you are dedicated to pursue them."[break][break]

a pause, hesitating in the smoggy silence that surrounds them, and then:[break][break]

"i am not going to offer that dedication on my own. it will take another, willing, hand to help dig through the mire." absinthe allows her eyes to bore into yuina's.[break][break]

this is an offer. there is an anomaly, one that absinthe is suggesting they figure out, one that absinthe can offer resources to without ever naming team rocket or the facilities at her disposal. this woman's ecological knowledge, paired with absinthe's disregard for delicacy and human connection and skill with chemicals... well. absinthe can imagine the pair of them could very well reach the heart of the matter, and be able to control the unknown—together.[break][break]

alas, it would require compromise, and it would require teamwork. absinthe's professors in school were quick to talk about absinthe in terms of how poorly she worked in groups, but absinthe is willing to try it once more, so long as there is a puzzle to solve, so long as this woman agrees to it.

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grass-types. indeed, shalin would be able to make short work of them with her pyroar. as if absinthe was planning on leading the way in, anyways. she much prefers the lesser beings to do her work for her so she may focus on grander ideals.[break][break]

with a wave of her hand, absinthe requests that shalin lead the way into the west tunnel.

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as the door to the laboratory slams shut behind them, absinthe strides towards a back room - one that she's never brought himiko into before. in fact, she rarely even enters this room herself, mostly because she tends to bring her work out into the main area of the lab instead. all of her most volatile chemicals are stored back here, rows upon rows of vials and jars that contain some of the most dangerous substances that a person could hope to encounter. she trails a finger lovingly along their edges as she walks.[break][break]

at the very back of this room, however, lies a single vial. this is the one that absinthe removes carefully, almost reverently, cradling it in her hands as she brings it over to a table. this is the one that she has been working on in secret for months, the toxin that she hopes will change the course of her life and everyone who ever hurt her.[break][break]

"this," absinthe says, voice dripping with disdain and dark promise as she flicks the vial with a fingertip, "is my pet project. my masterwork. watch."[break][break]

there's venom laced within her tone as she works, reaching for a rattata from a cage with a gloved hand and smearing upon the poor creature a miniscule amount of the substance with a pipette. almost instantly, the rattata begins to seize, limbs spasming painfully as foam collects at the edges of its mouth. its keening cry is guttural, and lasts for minutes until its life is finally snuffed out. the body goes limp and cold in absinthe's palm.[break][break]

"it's not perfect yet," absinthe admits after the rattata's corpse has gone slack, placing the body atop a nearby stainless steel tabletop with a dispassionate flick of her wrist, "but it's getting there."[break][break]

she holds the vial up to the light, watching the liquid within swirl. "it's the only thing that's kept me going."

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