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"of course i trust you," the words are so quiet they are almost consumed by the chaos around them, but absinthe doesn't need to hear them to know they are true. the trust between evelyn and absinthe is like a metal alloy, born from the heat of their struggles and beat into shape by the force of the trials they’ve overcome together. it’s unbreakable now.[break][break]

and then evelyn is moving, and absinthe is moving too, because this is how it has always been. one of them runs ahead while the other watches her back. she recalls soman and sends out trypsin, her seviper, who moves with a speed and grace born from generations of hunting. absinthe commands her to strike, and she does, the night slash finding purchase in munkidori’s flesh and drawing ichor.[break][break]

but munkidori is not so easily beaten. he retaliates with a psychic, manipulating the environment around them with the sheer power of his mind. rocks begin to rise from the ground, trembling in the air like drops of water on a glass. absinthe feels the weight of them pressing down on her, threatening to crush them all under their collective might.[break][break]

trypsin is unable to dodge, and a boulder strikes her before she can slither away. the seviper goes limp, but absinthe doesn't have time to worry about her. another boulder is hurtling toward evelyn, and absinthe is moving on pure instinct, desperate.[break][break]

and then the devil is moving. it is the last resort, a prayer whispered into the darkness of a dying world. absinthe feels the heat of its moonblast before she sees it, a lance of light and flame that shoots through the air with deadly precision. it finds munkidori and catches him square in the chest, sending him hurtling backward until he slams into the cavern wall, cracking it. rocks rain down around him, but the moonblast has done its job; the psychic hold he had on the boulders is gone, and they tumble to the ground like fruit from a tree.[break][break]

absinthe doesn’t hesitate. she recalls trypsin, then her eyes find evelyn. "evelyn!" she shouts, desperate to gain as much ground while the monkey is still recovering. "did you get the damn horse?!"

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perhaps it is the shock, the rare intimacy of baring her soul, but when himiko speaks absinthe listens. she doesn't interrupt, doesn't argue. she absorbs himiko's words, each one soaking into her like water into parched earth. it's strange, to be surrounded by care, to be offered genuine connection instead of pitying looks or disgusted grimaces. it's strange, but absinthe thinks—just for a moment—that maybe it's nice. maybe it's something she could get used to.[break][break]

the thought makes her nauseous.[break][break]

but it also makes her whisper, voice low and hoarse with emotion: "i'd like that."[break][break]

she means the offer of having someone to talk to. she means the promise that there are other people out there, besides just himiko, who might not be so quick to judge her based on her appearance, who might see her and want to know more, want to care. it's a radical concept, one that absinthe had long since written off as impossible.[break][break]

but himiko is still here, holding her hand with both of her own, standing solidly at her side. it makes absinthe feel like maybe, just maybe, she could keep her toes on solid ground long enough to start re-evaluating everything she thought she knew about the world.[break][break]

when himiko releases her hand, absinthe feels the loss of it like a cold wind, a breeze that chills her to the bone despite the warm air in the room. the mask is still off, and the world feels too big and open without it. but absinthe makes no move to put it back on, and her hand doesn't shake as she reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.[break][break]

there is something like determination in the set of her jaw, and her next words are resolute: "i think... i would like to start over."[break][break]

it's a big statement, a promise that she might not be able to fulfill. but with himiko at her side, absinthe feels like she can do anything. even this. even starting over, even learning to be vulnerable, to let others in, to accept help and care from someone else.[break][break]

she looks at himiko then, and her mouth does something strange. it pulls upwards at the corners, slow but sure, a wobbly, unsteady thing that takes on the shadow of a smile.[break][break]

"for you," absinthe says softly, "i will try."

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absinthe watches as the man's form falls limp into the fog, laying on the ground with an audible thump. even trypsin looks up, surprised by how quick the gas works.[break][break]

it is a quiet moment.[break][break]

the woman who had, mere seconds ago, been snarling and hissing and angry now stands there in silence. the plumes of green smoke start to dissipate into the dense black fog that shrouds this part of the forest, leaving the scent of bitter chemicals and decaying leaves in the air.[break][break]

she looks at the scalpel in her hand; at the mask on her face; at the limp body of her would-be victim. she looks at her world - this violent, chaotic, cruel world, one she has only ever tried to survive in.[break][break]

but maybe surviving isn't enough anymore. she watches him lie there, completely unconscious, at the mercy of her scalpel, her venom, her gas, and she feels the sinking, sick feeling she gets every time someone looks at her with pity.[break][break]

she didn't want him to pity her. she didn't want anyone to pity her.[break][break]

for a moment, she almost leaves him.[break][break]

almost.[break][break]

before she turns, she kneels next to him, rolls the body over, and takes his wallet from his back pocket.[break][break]

that accomplished, she leaves him. there's nothing more she can do there. the longer she stays, the higher the chance that the gas will start to affect her, despite her mask, or that he'll wake up before she's gone.[break][break]

either outcome doesn't bode well for her.[break][break]

besides, there's something she needs to do, somewhere she needs to be, and the revelation that comes with it:[break][break]

absinthe blackwood is going to fix herself. and there's a good possibility that team rocket, and the rest of the world, will suffer for it.

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the door clicks closed, and with it absinthe feels a small weight lift. she's grateful for the privacy. that being said, she has an aggressive, drunk, and increasingly agitated boss in front of her who is demanding answers.[break][break]

the problem is she doesn't know how to give them. absinthe's knowledge of fezandipiti is limited to hearsay, rumor, and her own investigations. she knows the shard is a bad omen, but what exactly the fezandipiti standing on her lab table is capable of, or why it appeared to her of all people, she doesn't know.[break][break]

she also knows it is a great boon. a sign that maybe she is doing something right.[break][break]

but she can't tell howard that. she needs to seem competent, confident, collected, lest he blabs and gets her killed for this little side endeavor. her research is all she has. she can't lose it. she can't be sent back to square one after all of the risks she took and all the sacrifices she made to be here right now.[break][break]

she needs this job. she needs this lab. she needs the respect that comes with it.[break][break]

and besides, she reasons in the dark, rational corners of her mind, maybe rocket also needs her.[break][break]

absinthe clears her throat and takes a breath, then finds that she is at an impasse, unsure where to start. finally, she decides on the truth. her voice is steady and calm, belying the panic in her heart. "all i did was receive a gift, howard."[break][break]

her gaze drifts to the devil's echo on her counter, eyes flickering as she wrestles with her thoughts.[break][break]

"i won the trust of the real fezandipiti in order to get close to the toxic chain. the bird i have here is a... is a parting gift." the real fezandipiti had given her this shard, her very own echo to study, something she couldn't say no to. "the bird here has not committed any of the sins of its forebearer. it's only an echo. i took it to study it. i want to understand its power."[break][break]

she pauses and glances up at him. it's hard to read his expression.[break][break]

"can you fault me for that?"

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absinthe wishes she could believe that june truly knows what she's talking about. it would be a nice reprieve from the all-consuming suspicion that nothing june does will ever make a difference, and absinthe will forever be chased by the demons of her past.[break][break]

and the demons of her present, apparently, as they still fly through the air, sirens wailing behind them like the screams of angry banshees. absinthe's knee throbs with every beat of the talonflame's wings, a sharp, deep pain that threatens to make her vomit.[break][break]

"it's not that simple," she replies, her voice just barely carrying over the wind. "so he gets reported. an internal investigation is launched, he's forced to talk about this situation, and i have more cops on my damn doorstep, snooping around in my bar and finding shit that could put me behind bars for decades."[break][break]

the pain in her leg is joined by a headache, a deep pounding that matches the beat of her heart. "believe me, i wish i could do something. but he knows my hands are tied—it's why he's as bold as he is."[break][break]

she doesn't add the other part, the part where she knows that she deserves every bit of this and more. where she wonders if cole would be proud of her for becoming exactly what he had always been. a cruel person. a criminal. a person who should be in jail.[break][break]

"just don't say shit," she says, and even though her voice is weak, there's a pleading tone to it that is hard to ignore. "let somebody who's actually innocent take him down."

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she isn't thinking as howard enters the lab, only reacting. the man has always possessed the annoying ability to turn up unexpectedly. her first thought is to shove him out of her lab and keep her secret safe, but then he starts talking about bourbon and absinthe, still foggy from the night before, finds herself unable to respond as she struggles to fish the shard the bird belongs to out of the pocket of her lab coat. that is, of course, when he sees it, the echo of the devil crane standing on her counter.[break][break]

absinthe winces, watching the glass in howard's hand slip from his grip and clatter onto the floor, some shards bouncing against the toe of her boot. fuck. the first thing that comes to her mind is an apology, some way to make it all make sense, to keep him from turning her in, or worse. the second thought is to get him to stop exclaiming.[break][break]

"howard, shut up."[break][break]

her voice is cold, dark, and low. the absinthe he had gotten drunk with a week ago is not the same absinthe that stands in front of him now. she has changed—and just as change is want to do, she has, of course, changed for the worse.[break][break]

absinthe stares back at him, shoulders tensed, gaze unwavering. finally, finally she knows the truth. she's become a liability.[break][break]

the door is still open. absinthe's eyes flick over his shoulder, to the rest of petalburg that yawns behind him.[break][break]

"why don't you close the door behind you?"[break][break]

phrased as a question, but spoken with all the intent of an order. secrecy must be maintained. she has slipped, but she can still salvage this before she goes into free-fall.

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time seems to move in slow motion as the sludge wave builds around munkidori. it roils with darkness and malice, a storm created by a friend of the devil absinthe thought she could contain.[break][break]

and she couldn't have.[break][break]

the devil is not her ally. the devil is not her friend. the devil is not a power she could wield.[break][break]

the devil is the end of everything good in her life.[break][break]

but right now she has a more pressing threat to worry about.[break][break]

"soman!" the command comes out like a shot as she throws the premier ball, releasing the toxapex within. the ball splits open and soman spreads her tentacles wide, bracing herself against the ground as she forms a protective shell around herself, absinthe, the devil, dragonite, and evelyn. the baneful bunker moves at an almost leisurely pace, as if time is being bent around it, giving them just enough warning to prepare for what's to come.[break][break]

the sludge wave hits them like a train, the force of it rocking soman back on her heels but not breaking her defenses. the world turns a deep, sickly black, tendrils of toxic sludge clawing at the shield like hands trying to tear their way inside. for a moment it is impossible to see anything else. it feels as though they're trapped in the eye of a hurricane, a maelstrom of poison that threatens to consume them whole.[break][break]

absinthe grits her teeth, digging her nails into evelyn's hand. she can hear munkidori laughing in the back of her mind. she can feel the devil's claws in her chest. this is the consequence of choosing light. this is the consequence of trying to have a future.[break][break]

absinthe wanted evelyn to save her from herself.[break][break]

but now she needs to save evelyn from herself.[break][break]

somehow.[break][break]

the sludge wave dissipates. in the absence of terror, absinthe turns to her side, inspecting the woman there. "evelyn," she breathes, soft like a sword in a velvet sheath. "are you alright?"

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if there is a god, it must be fond of cruel jokes.[break][break]

to her, the shard that fell from fezandipiti's wings and into her palms was a boon, a blessing, a sign that every sin she has committed in the name of revenge had some grounding in reality. she had been warned, told in no uncertain terms that to willingly accept a gift of such magnitude would invite ruin upon herself, and absinthe had ignored it. in fact, she had taken no small measure of pride in bringing the ill omen close to her chest, cradling it as one might a baby. it was a mark branded to her skin, revealing to the world that she was a scientist who would do anything to see her dreams become a reality, even if it meant allying with enemies of hoenn at large.[break][break]

but pride is a fickle thing. once so strong and powerful, time renders it a sickly beast, walking on emaciated legs and struggling to breathe. Yuina Higashi's warnings have finally set in. Evelyn Vespera's tears have finally hit their mark.[break][break]

she must keep the shard of fezandipiti a secret.[break][break]

but secrets are heavy things. they weigh and they weigh and they weigh. absinthe has never been fond of them, finding them unsightly and garish. she is an honest woman, often to a fault, preferring the truth in every situation, even if it is crass, even if it is tragic. but this is a secret above all secrets. lest the world find her to be an extension of the toxic chain, it will remain tucked close to her chest, hidden beneath the frantic beating of her blackened heart.[break][break]

as much as she hates secrets, though, absinthe also hates mornings such as these.[break][break]

she despises the taste of alcohol on her breath, sour and caustic as it seems to linger on her tongue no matter how many times she tried to brush her teeth the night prior. she despises the fog that seems to wrap itself around her brain like some insidious parasite, making it hard to think, hard to move, hard to function. she despises the pain that throbs through her head like a bass drum. but most of all, she despises the memories that seem to press in from every angle of her consciousness, almost audible whispers that seek to remind her of everything she had lost.[break][break]

the heavy drinker she is, she knows that only more alcohol can solve the foggy haze she finds herself stuck in. in the dark, silent depths of her temporary lab in petalburg, she works carefully, a pipette in one hand, a flask of vodka in the other. in front of her, atop a steel countertop, the echo of the devil stands, a heron with dark plumage and cold, empty eyes.[break][break]

as long as she has the bastard, she might as well figure out its physiology.[break][break]

that is until the front door of the laboratory clicks open. until absinthe startles from her position near the crane and turns her wide, owlish eyes to the front of the lab.[break][break]

fuck. she'd forgotten to lock the door, so poisoned by the haze of her hangover.[break][break]

now, she supposes, she'll pay the inherent cost that comes with any poorly-kept secret.

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there is a coldness in the pit of absinthe's stomach at howard's words. they weigh heavily on her, pressing down on her with the force of an entire world of expectation that she will never, ever be able to fill. the fact that he's doing all this for 'people like her' is... jarring, to say the least.[break][break]

absinthe's thoughts spiral darker. change is a worthless thing, she agrees. her lips curve into a deep frown. everything changes, but what good is it if the people meant to witness it are all gone?[break][break]

she's shocked from her thoughts by the flask hitting her leg. her head snaps up. her gaze locks onto howard's bloodshot eye, and she shifts slightly on the grass.[break][break]

absinthe grits her teeth as she stands up, swaying slightly. one hand presses against her thigh, and the other grips the flask. she looks at him again, gauging his sincerity, and finding a lonely truth.[break][break]

"there's no happy ending for me," she admits with an edge of bitterness as she stuffs the empty flask into her pocket. "but my bar still has booze."[break][break]

she sighs and extends her hand to pull him up. she has to squint to even see straight as the scotch clouds her mind.

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he says he's defective, broken, used. absinthe scoffs. isn't everyone? no one can get through life without scars to show for it.[break][break]

absinthe finds her eyes falling on the flames again. so much of this last hour reminds her of her life. burning, falling apart, only still standing because it refuses to accept the inevitable. it should hurt, watching the flames turn everything to ash, but it doesn't. absinthe feels a kind of sense of accomplishment seeing the fire rage. there's something... final about it.[break][break]

she takes another swig of scotch, the burn warming her empty insides. she'd be lying if she said she wasn't drunk on the moment. it's intoxicating, sitting in the grass and feeling the night wrap around her like an embrace, her fingers tangled tightly in the grass.[break][break]

she lets out a laugh, soft and breathy, and returns the flask to him. his next drink will be the last. "indeed." her voice drops to an octave that's barely audible. "and power. status." a pause. "revenge."[break][break]

she gestures absentmindedly in front of her. her fingers are pruney and stained yellow with bourbon, but they find the dark expanse of the sky. she curls her fingers into a fist and stares at the flickering lights of the fire, her sharp nose pointing at the sky.[break][break]

"we all want something to control. something we can rely on." she murmurs, her words fuzzy around the edges. "something we can hold onto."[break][break]

she pauses, her throat burning. her voice cracks as she speaks again. "or something we can change."[break][break]

her hand falls. "but if it gets us to the next morning, i don't give a shit if we're drunk."

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for a moment, the only sound in the cavern is the waterfall, and the only motion is the rise and fall of their breaths as they try to collect themselves. absinthe is acutely aware of the way evelyn's heart beats against her own, a quiet reminder of how fragile everything is. but even as she holds evelyn, absinthe knows she has not solved anything. she feels as though she has merely patched a leak in a sinking ship.[break][break]

still, the sound of the waterfall is soothing. the world is quiet and peaceful. this feels like a brief moment of respite before the storm. but there is no storm.[break][break]

there is only a silence, and then the sound of a soft thud from deeper in the cavern.[break][break]

absinthe is on high alert instantly, every sense on high alert as she carefully, gently releases evelyn from the embrace and holds her hand close to the fezandipiti echo beside her. there is a new feeling in the air. absinthe can't describe it other than to say the world seems to be holding its breath.[break][break]

"stay behind me," she instructs, pushing evelyn back. she moves to the edge of the waterfall pool, her eyes scanning the darkness beyond.[break][break]

her finger hovers over the bird's head. her hand tightens into a fist.[break][break]

her eyes adjust to the darkness. she sees the mare.[break][break]

and then she sees something else.[break][break]

sweat beads down her face and she nearly stops breathing. she had thought she could have both. she had thought she could make everything okay. but she had forgotten one important thing:[break][break]

devils are fickle creatures.[break][break]

"i hope you meant what you said," she whispers to evelyn. "because i think we're going to need it."

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