she realizes, quite instantly, that her attempt on his life that day had been a fruitless, pitiful endeavor. despite her prowess with dragons, she had no sygna suit, no combat routine, and certainly no avatar powers. 

now, though, with king's rigorous training under her belt, her eyes dart to the movement of matias' arm. he's bigger than her, and he'll no doubt hit harder, but right as she goes to tuck her shoulder and slide out of the way, she remembers her slap to the face.

Eva Morales's hand against the grain of her scales, cut and bleeding. she throws up her arm in a cross-guard - unknowingly, she becomes a spitting image of king - angling it so his knuckles will glance off her festering skin. she simpers, ulna and radial bones aching on impact, and the air warps around her like hot tarmac on a summer's day.

it is not a closed fist that comes towards him in return, but an adder's strike from claw-tipped hands.

MATIAS SILPH

☉

grief so vicious it turned her to stone. her desperation, her cry for help, keened to a nickit who gave her everything she wanted and broke her at her foundation in return. she knew nature's madness, and she knew it well, and she knows it still, and it haunts her, and it shames her, and she wouldn't wish it on her own worst enemies. 

she wouldn't wish it on Elisabeth Fiorelli. she wouldn't wish it on this child. 

she kneels. she looks into eris' eyes and her golds are raw with understanding - with barely-healed-over-still-deeply-hidden pain - and she apologizes, softly, as she reaches gently to hold her. 

and after her sorries, with her voice a whisper, she tells her about her salvation - "the people you love, they'll remind you. they'll remind you of who you are when you think you've forgotten."

Eris Halla

☉

show me, she wants to snarl, but the words are bitten back. her recent years have taught her patience, begrudgingly so, and it is with this recollection of her faculties that she finally stops her pacing. still, every fiber of her being is taut with anticipation as she chases springing scenarios through her head. 

if they don't manage to corner june, she could run. 

and if she runs, there's a chance they don't find her again. 

and if they do manage to corner june, it could scare her off. 

she aided a known rocket. that's cause enough for arrest. her teeth ache. 

"how much," she says with a pained expression, "does she truly hate the league?"

annalise henderson

☉

it would more than likely, in retrospect, be the cruelest way to die. KING WAYLAND would never forgive either of them if one of those spikes managed to dig through her ribcage and through her rampantly beating heart. it takes every ounce of her concentration just to dodge them. 

her breath comes in short, staccato pants. her brows are knit in stern concentration. adrenaline is squeezing through her, but she is calm and cool and collected. 

fearful, otherwise, of gnarling limbs and snapping joints. 

but when he growls at her, her rhythmic flow is interrupted with the same haphazard combustion. rocky shrapnel plinks off of her scales; pieces of it score her flesh, oozing blood. she stumbles to one side and almost looks as though she might pitch over, but her palm flares downward. 

dust and debris skitter away from her as she rights herself. placid waters evaporate as she sinks her teeth into embers and with every stride forward, she propels herself with small bursts of air. 

heat radiates off of her in waves as she nears and when she's within striking distance, the whites of her eyes have gone black. 

MATIAS SILPH

☉

vadrok's claws sink deeply into the sands and his bulldozing protects her from the worst of the blast. still, debris flies towards her and she lifts her arms. sand richocets off of her scales after tearing small holes in her underarmour. 

this is my worst nightmare, she thinks through a cough and offers up a shaky thumbs up to desiree. 

"i think i see a few pieces in the sand," she says as she crests the crater they've made. her human legs are clumsy on the sand dunes so vadrok slips beneath her, lifting her with an oof. she slides awkwardly into the saddle, chiding him with an affectionate knock of her knuckles on his spine. he preens. 

she checks on the rest of their team, nodding as elise's hare's protective dome begins to fade, though she lingers on where silverio had fallen. lyune's bellow draws her from her list and she follows his narrowed gaze. in the storm, dark shapes lumber towards them. 

the telltale sound of pokeballs unclasping reaches her ears and she knows instantly that these are not friendly.

"lyune," she says and the side of her mouth twitches in a smile. 

the gargantuan dragon draws back his head, neck curling as violet light shimmers up his throat, and with an earth-shaking bellow, white-hot light screeches from his maw in a sweeping, deadly line towards their assailants. 

"focus their pokemon, but the operatives may have weapons themselves. elise, can you cover silverio?"

Elise Calcifet DESIREE BLOOMS silverio delfino

we kill declan walsh jr.

☉

blackthorn had been the birthplace of a friend of a friend. there aren't many ways she'd connected with kyle lopez before his passing and their brief discussion about draconid feels a paltry memory to dredge up now. 

"hydreigon especially don't do well cooped up in balls. they need to let their aggression out." best to do it with rigorous exercise and consistent combat training, lest they become easily provoked. wolfe is more at ease because they'd flown here and she's worn down. 

"but i'm sure you know that," she adds with a chuckle and then waves her hand, beckoning kyrenai to follow. "here, let me show you around a bit and we'll add some sparring sessions to my schedule."

Kyrenai Black

☉

freya is not very well known for her sunny disposition, but she has, as of late, made more of an effort on account of the horns that have grown, knobbly and obsidian from her skull. the touch around her waist from a stranger is a bit of a discomfort, but she swallows it with a flat line of her lips and nods when the ranger gives the go-ahead. 

the dragonite surges forward and freya nearly startles at the familiar green eyes of Eva Morales. the woman who thanks her has her same kantonian cadence, but the similarities end there, leaving freya's skin prickling. 

they're prompted to rest and as she looks around, she realizes they're in an oasis. the rest of the world had been a pixelated blur around them, but now, outside of this haven, she sees the skeletal remains of civilization surrounding them. 

her expression darkens. 

"try not to let this place get to you," she says to her partner, though the words are more for herself. "sometimes the machine plays tricks on you."

Blossom Delier

rest

☉

that's what they look like? she thinks as a green blob bursts from the churned earth. it darts around almost like an insect on an undulating stomach. she looks towards roy, mostly confused, but then blinks as he withdraws his strange emerald cube. 

unease worms through her and she finds herself staring distantly after howard. her scales itch and she scratches absentmindedly, but his curiosity becomes her own, and she chalks up her foreboding to paranoia and their vicinity to ghosts. 

"you look like you were expecting something else to happen," she observes as she nears roy.

howard slayte Roy Aker

☉

yuina, on all accounts, is faster than she is. the only dragons within the cave are her tyrantrum and kommo-o and neither are able to follow the naganadel on foot. so while yuina rushes outward with a flurry of feathers, freya takes off at a sprint, hands in her mouth to whistle loudly. 

albeit massive, lyune isn't fast enough to keep up with the creature. when he touches down alongside ori, she snaps him back into his ball and launches herself into her faster dragon. 

a tailwind spurred behind them catches them up to harrow and yuina just as they dart over the top of the draciary's dome. when he surges to match her pace, freya shouts over the wind, "prepare yourself!"

anticipation plumes through her, though for what, she doesn't know.

Yuina Higashi
pDfN6EGJ

☉

"what does it matter to the weedle," she says, "when the ariados skips a weave?" they're all wriggling insects caught in a trap still being spun around them. how can they hope to escape, nevermind overcome their captors, when they are reduced to thrashing blindly for their own survival?

shadows flicker in her periphery. salt water drips from stalactites clustered above them. a droplet lands on her cheek, tumbling over golden scales and fair skin. her jaw tightens. then a sea breeze brushes through, cleansing the dank, wet smell of this corrupted sanctum.

"for now." her voice is a low, curious threat. with pride as her vice, she is intimately familiar with its self-destructive follies. pointed little teeth dimple her lower lip. "but a dragon knows patience."

declan walsh

☉