"fine," she says. shiva's tail raises and then flops to the other side of her haunches. when she starts to lean her full weight into anya, the woman removes her hand and snaps a finger. shiva stretches, flashing fangs and casting one long look at the man standing a couple of paces away from them. 

"it should be simple, especially since you have your own collection."

Cillian Quinn

☉

before molly fouller there was someone else. scattered dreams and feather boas, sand on her palms and a sky glinting like copper. she can remember what it felt like to hold a microphone in her hands, to lean against a hazy crowd, jagged teeth around her. she can remember pale lights over her skin, a throat thrumming until her songbird's neck was cracked. 

she does not remember her and yet she glimpses her sometimes - that woman in her body, from that other place. where days are long and summers are never-ending. 

these are memories she cannot share of her own will. she couldn't find the words to speak them. but they come to life for this being, as they have over countless nights prior. when she lay against his glass cage, humming songs she has no words to. 

do you remember your lullabies?

FERNANDO SILPH

☉

there is little she can do to dissuade fernando. if it were anyone else, she would balk at their intrinsic hubris. humans are finite creatures - by definition they cannot grasp what it means to be infinite. and yet he seeks to prepare for just that. no, instead her lips curl in a knowing smile. 

she has made her bed. madman or not, she will do as he requests. besides, if anyone could do it, it's him. 

and so the conversation turns back to him. "is he intelligent? does he have...drive? ambition?" like us.

FERNANDO SILPH

☉

poipole is a hungry, greedy little thing and it's taken to nibbling on strands of anya's hair. but she doesn't notice. she keeps her gaze trained up, watching her smoke curl. ash dusts down and onto her jacket. when poipole pinches and pain stings her scalp, she finally flickers. annoyed, she dares swat the beast away. 

it rolls in the air and makes its metallic, otherworldly sounds. anya shoots it a terse look. her hand is firm and though the ultra beast knows it could stick its stinger in her neck and be done with it, she has somehow earned its respect. 

because it too bore witness to the creature they are here to meet. 

the voice invades her mind and she freezes, eyes widening. she chokes a bit on her smoke, breathes out her last puff and ashes the cigarette. 

cold blue eyes scan the sky. 

"where are you, my dear?" she calls, softly. in her thoughts, she says, do you remember my voice?

FERNANDO SILPH

☉

anya does not seek praise from others, especially men like fernando, but she's come to value his opinion. to grow, as she said to lulu, a fondness for him. so the satisfaction on his face mimics her own, albeit hers shares some smugness. 

"need i point out the fruitlessness of such an endeavor?" she says, blue eyes cold and unmoving from his form. 

"again, there are infinite possibilities in our future. we simply cannot prepare contingencies for them all. so you prepare for groudon's fall in this world? well, a meteor decides to barrel towards us instead." funny, how he's talking of saving them from a speculative doomsday when they currently lack the answer to spare them from this one.

not that she holds any remorse for the millions dead in sea-hoenn should dahlia successfully enact her plan. she just has trouble believing that the league actually has the manpower to fulfill that promise. 

"we humans are rather good at destroying ourselves, fernando. will you put a contingency plan in place if we fail to carry out our duty?"

FERNANDO SILPH

☉

claws scrape against a protective barrier and anya shifts her weight, nonplussed. the thing can listen to commands, but can it be marred, tortured, beaten, bruised and still take meat from its master's hands? teethe his fingers gingerly, almost lovingly, with broken bones and open gashes? 

liquid fire drips from shiva's maw as the lioness snarls in frustration. but her aggression disappears, ears flat against her skull, when anya snaps her finger again. she slinks coyly back to her side and sits, eyes fixated on her prey. 

anya is decidedly not impressed. 

men with their hollow dreams. she strays her fingers over shiva's forehead and the lion leans into her touch, eyes lidded.

"the machine - is it salvageable? the serum, i can recreate easily."

Cillian Quinn

☉

her lions, for once, remain tucked in their pokeballs. their fiery manes attract too much attention on the outskirts of lilycove. dusk still lingers; the last remaining sunlight melds with the cityscape at her back. her companion is a poipole - the same beast that helped her shape the creature she's here to meet. the same beast that fernando haughtily claims is one of the reasons she hasn't found a knife in her back. 

it floats upside down, toying every so often with anya's curls. but she does not swat it away. 

because she is waiting, cigarette shaking between pinched fingers. cherry red glow around her lips, fading as she exhales. 

you can meet him, if you'd like. 

where are you, my son?

FERNANDO SILPH

☉

then i trust you. famous last words from most. her brows arch and even her idle scratching stops, much to shiva's malcontent. the lioness raises her lip, teething with one long fang at anya's hand. and so the scientist resumes her petting, following fernando's turn. 

the lore of hoenn's legendaries is known to most, but she's begun to study it with more vigor in these past few weeks. the recent changes to hoenn have demanded it. 

"so the stories go, the sea would claim the earth. however, as we've seen from some of these legendaries, they possess the wherewithal to understand complex thought. we could infer they then understand consequence. after all, why make avatars?"

she dances around the question, circling, scribbling out variables in her head. "inconclusive," she says, settling. too many variables. too little information. she eyes him.

FERNANDO SILPH

☉

does he suspect her disingenuity? more than likely. or perhaps he just suspects more tricks up her sleeve. not that she minds. these drab politics are all for show, strangers dancing around the banal and lacing true meanings behind cigarette smoke and blood. 

or shadows. 

"then i must know," she says with a tilt of her head, "how well can you control them?" she snaps a finger and shiva rises, shaking out her fur. she steps forward, claws flexing into the ground; the other follows suit. her rump wriggles, poised, and waiting for anya's orders. 

"it strikes my lioness and the deal is off." shiva bares her fangs and launches, claws outstretched, fire leaping off her tongue.

Cillian Quinn

☉

good. even the illusion of control is better than nothing at all. her hand drifts behind her big cat's ear and shiva's throat rumbles against anya's thigh. she regards fernando and mulls over his input. 

"i still think it's in our best interest," she says. her smile glitters. "i'm rather good at making myself indispensable. i'll let you know if and when i make contact." 

and with that discussed, she tilts her head to the projection, waves her free hand to its moving parts. "and your new project?"

FERNANDO SILPH

☉

anya fowl knows not to look at fernando silph like any other man, but still her cold gaze wanders his features in search of anything resembling jealousy. or something more callous. but when she finds nothing, she takes a seat and watches the projection that flickers in front of them. 

"seems our corruption hadn't been as effective as we thought," she says tiredly. "perhaps cadis had a file neither of us were privy to?" because lulu couldn't have pulled her name out of thin air. 

she rests her fingertips gently over her brow, pads of her fingers draped on her nose.

"my thought is that this is advantageous. help put the pieces back together for them and they get, what, subpar, volatile machinations that you and i deemed ought to have been abandoned in the first place?" she purrs her laugh. 

shiva wakes from her slumber beside his front door and joins her on the couch, lounging with her big paws in anya's lap. 

"but you have need of me," she says. with a tilt of her head, sly smile, she adds, "unless you were simply looking for me to fill a housewife's duties."

FERNANDO SILPH

☉

her dreams are listless things. when she wakes, it's to an empty bed, the pillow beside her still warm. she rouses, swiping her thumb 'round her lips, rubbing her fingers together to wipe the makeup away. on his bedside table is a glass of water. she drinks, gathers her silk robe from his bathroom, and pads out of his bedroom. 

before that split second where he notices her, she takes him in. this body of hers that she'd ravished for hours, alien as ever. she will never truly know him, or love him, but that's for the best. 

work comes first, for both of them. and his ties to their mewtwo bind her loyalty to him for as long as it's alive.

it's why she says, "Cillian Quinn  approached me while you were...away." she doesn't, however, include the detail of how her identity had been leaked. lulu. "he fancies my work with the shadow project." she scoffs. 

"wants to get it up and running again."

FERNANDO SILPH

☉

through his eyes she will see the cosmic horrors, bear witness to the madness that comes from knowledge alight and just as quickly doused. already, she slakes her skin with his, shedding layers like an adder, limbs languid. their coming together is slow, impassioned, or however else she might delude herself. 

after all, she is only human. 

his time away has left him weary, but she does not relent. on her knees, curls swaying, she takes her fill. the afternoon passes and twilight yawns, golden light spilling onto dewy skin, and still she hungers for more. 

more, more, more, as though that will break down that last wall that lay between them. as though that will scatter the rest of her apprehensions, the nagging thought that no matter where she turns, she's facing the gallows. 

and only after she brings him to his bed, after her lipstick has smeared and her legs are shaking, does she rest a palm on his breast and fall asleep against him. twined there, like lovers ought to be. 

FERNANDO SILPH

☉