Be careful.

After the warehouse, Orion understands the sentiment for what it is: worry. So he offers a tight smile, and a promise, "I will be."

He is, in spite of how it looks, knowing to block the defensive attack even before it's fired. Ghosts weren't too different from most Pokémon when it came to feeling threatened. If you cornered a dog, it would bite you. He's careful to step away from the door as he talks.

Eventually, when neither Tam nor Orion move to aggression, the icy spirit giggles and vanishes in a puff of ICY WIND. She reappears next to Orion, who doesn't flinch away in spite of his instinct, holding out a pokeball in the palm of his hand.

"Only temporary." He means it.

The Misdreavus is much easier, given its eagerness to spook them. It targets Tam Fawley in particular, sensing him as an easier target and appearing in front of him at the bottom of the stairs with another high-pitched shriek. Orion takes the opportunity to nail her with a capsule as she's trying to capitalize on her act.

"Well, at least it didn't do it while we were on the stairs." A dead victim wouldn't provide any fear with which to nourish the spirit, after all.

mission: you're not the one
valor: heal bell

It's not the first one he's lost.

It won't be the last.

Neither of these facts make it any easier when Orion's Absol takes the ranger's sleeve gently between his teeth to tug him away from the officer's still form. He slumps against the railing of the ship, suddenly feeling the exhaustion in his muscles as awareness comes back to him. He should offer comfort to the man's partner, to Talia, should do anything, really, but he only curls an arm around Altair and breathes.

If I'd just sucked it up and swam—

—then I'd be dead, and there'd be two funerals.

Altair stirs next to him when Talia Celes requests his aid, and only then does Orion pull himself back up with the aid of the railing. He recalls his Pokémon, save for the Noivern overhead and the Absol on deck, and listens quietly to the haunting song of his fellow ranger.

He doesn't know what to say, and settles awkwardly on, "That was... nice."

Altair's horn nudges his arm, and Orion drops his hand into shaggy white fur to allow himself some small comfort. To the female officer, he expresses, "I'm... sorry for your loss."

It was going to be a long trip home.

mission: a deadly job
valor: search and rescue

There's a certain warmth to the smile he offers the captain. It's sweet, to know someone else cares.

"I will," he promises.

Of Dark-types, he says, "They get a bad rep, mostly. Like Absol with old superstitions. They don't cause disasters, but since they only show themselves when one's about to happen..." People had thrown rocks at Altair, tried to chase him off, cursed him for a harbinger of bad luck. He was only trying to help them.

He expects to have some difficulty in finding the anxious Froslass, but Tam's decision to light up a cigarette proves an odd sort of compass. ICY WIND billows from the door of a room just opened, and Orion stifles a laugh as he takes in the sight of a snowflake-dusted Tam. It's adorable.

"I think you did. You've got snow all in your hair."

Orion steps into the room, lifting his hands both flesh and metal in a mute gesture of peace. The Froslass has backed herself into a corner, firing off a SHADOW BALL in Orion's direction. He lifts his arm, Rotom's PROTECT diffusing the attack.

"Hey, now, no need for that." His voice is soft. "We're not here to fight. I bet you never wanted to be here, hm?" Orion's heart is pounding hard; he'd intentionally left out the part about Froslass disliking men. It's not as if they had any option but to try and placate her. He gestures for his Chandelure to back out of the room, not wanting to spook her further with its flames. "We can take you somewhere nice and cold..."

mission: you're not the one
valor: heal bell

He's surprised that Tam has noticed.

"I do!" Some became experts on certain types by chance or study, but Orion had bonded with the ghost type out of an affectionate understanding. They were misunderstood, too. "You asked earlier about the Phantump." He'd forgotten, momentarily, after the door had opened to permit them entry and distracted them both from their conversation. "I haven't had much luck, but ghosts require a lot of patience. They're all so different, even members of the same species have their quirks."

They move on from the kitchen, old stairs creaking under their weight as Orion leads the way to the smaller second floor. The drafts of cold air are stronger, here, and he shivers under a brush of wind.

"A lot of people don't have that kind of patience, or they're just scared, so they get neglected. Most of my ghosts are rescues." Either unwanted house-haunters or troubled adoptees. "It's why I like dark-types, too. And bugs."

Emerald eyes trace the path of a Spinarak as it scuttles away from the light.

Orion smiles as Tam insists on relocation; that's what he likes about Tam. Even though he's nervous, he's determined to do the job right.

"Hardest part will be finding her, I think..."

mission: you're not the one
valor: heal bell

"You were a fucking menace."

He sounds amused as he teases Tam for his past transgressions; it's easier to tease his captain than it is to remember his own high school days. He didn't have friends to be a menace with. He'd been the weird kid, the outcast.

Memories are brushed away like cobwebs, unwanted.

The sudden grip on his arm startles him as much as the scream seems to have startled Tam, but he finds he doesn't mind the closeness. It's kind of cute, actually. He hadn't expected Tam to seek comfort from him, however reflexive. When Tam lets go, whipping around to stare at empty air, Orion offers him a sympathetic smile.

"Misdreavus feed off fear, but they're mostly harmless otherwise." The hair-pulling was annoying, though, and he winces as he feels a sharp tug at his own. "Froslass are a bit more of a danger, but they're afraid of fire so we should be fine with these two." His shadows dance in their flames as he gestures to the real and fake Chandelure duo.

"Froslass wouldn't normally haunt somewhere like this, though. They like the cold..." That's what troubled him the most, along with the clear signs of a break-in. "I'm starting to wonder if the ghosts were planted here as a joke." Misdreavus would've adapted just fine, reveling in the chance to cause terror in the manor's occupants, but the Froslass? It was probably angry at being displaced from its previous home. Shoal Cave, if he were to guess.

mission: you're not the one
valor: heal bell

Though Orion doesn't miss Talia's wide-eyed horror, there's no time to ask questions when lives are on the line. He feels powerless as she jumps into the water with her Starmie, longing for the days when he'd have followed her without hesitation.

Know your limits. A bitter pill.

Perhaps he should offer the half-drowned woman some comfort, but Orion only leans against the railing and stares anxiously across the turbulent, storm-tossed waters. His Lanturn and Tentacruel have left to assist her, and the Tentacruel's appendages lift the man's unconscious body over the rail where Orion helps to settle him down. He's not breathing.

No.

He doesn't speak, merely launching into a frantic attempt at CPR. But seconds turn into minutes, and the man does not stir.

mission: a deadly job
valor: search and rescue

Is Tam blushing?

It's slight enough that it could perhaps be blamed on the warm light from the Chandelure, but Orion's stomach swoops all the same. Cute.

Puddi's added light and heat is appreciated as they move into the dining room, the space no less chilly than before. It's a hot Hoennian day in spite of the turn toward a stereotypical 'fall' season and so Orion knows to blame it on the specters haunting the place. Perhaps a Froslass?

"Hm. I don't think so..."

Carefully, so as to avoid the shards of glass, Orion picks up a large rock nestled among the window's remains.

"We are closing in on Halloween." He makes a face. It's his favourite holiday, but, "Dumb teenagers like to pull pranks and cause property damage for some dumb fuckin' reason." Smashing pumpkins was tame in comparison to a B&E.

"You lead," makes him smile, however brief. It's been a while since his expertise has been trusted, by anyone.

Something screams when they step into the kitchen, and even Orion jumps. His metal hand clamps too rough against his chest in reaction, causing a burst of pain. He laughs it off.

"Fucking ⁠— Misdreavus, I think. They do that. Careful, they also like to jump out at people."

They also like to pull hair. Sorry, Tam Fawley.

mission: you're not the one
valor: heal bell

Tam doesn't flinch away from the curious ghost, which instantly earns him more points in Orion's book.

Tam does flinch when the door swings open, to Orion's surprise, and the cadet stifles a laugh with an apologetic glance at his captain. "I didn't know you were so jumpy." He's teasing, eyes bright.

Orion steps into the haunted house with no fear whatsoever, not even when the door slams shut violently behind them and the hallway lights flicker ominously. It's cold inside, even through his ranger jacket, and Orion finds himself grateful for his Chandelure's warmth as the ghastly Pokémon drifts uncomfortably close. He can see his breath.

A glance into a shadowy dining room reveals several broken windows, glass strewn across hardwood floors. Orion frowns.

"Watch your step," he cautions, then, "It looks like the place was broken into. That's not usually the work of ghosts..."

mission: you're not the one
valor: heal bell

Orion is quiet, brooding, until the subject of Team Rocket comes up courtesy of Kazimir Wynter. Tam Fawley might notice the cadet stiffen at his side, but Orion gives his captain a glance he hopes is reassuring. I'm not going to cause a scene, I promise.

He stands up.

"I've had experience with Rocket." He's incredibly conscious of his prosthetic arm. "They kidnapped me, tortured me, and cut off my arm." He gestures with dark titanium fingers. "I never saw a legendary, nor one of their known avatars. They don't need legendary Pokémon to be a threat, so the thought of them acquiring more power..." His emerald gaze shifts to Josh Devlin as he speaks. "What happened to you was unfortunate, but don't get yourself killed chasing dreams. We need every ranger we've got in the days to come."

With his piece said, he sits back down. Cool spy gadgets are temporarily ignored in favour of the exhaustion that overtakes him. I want to go home.

"If a place stays standing long enough, something's bound to take a liking to it. There's a couple ghosts at the ranch but they're a bit shy. Been trying to convince the Phantump living in one of my trees that I'm not a threat."

Phantump were particularly tricky spirits, being that some were said to be the souls of children. He's not sure if he believes all that or if it's just superstition, but the Phantump certainly sounded child-like enough when it cried in the middle of the night. He felt bad for it.

"A hotel? Damn."

Once they're near the front steps, Orion sends out his Chandelure to shed some proper light on the place. The ghastly chandelier cackles, getting a little too close to Tam.

"He's harmless," Orion assures the captain. "Just lonely."

Pollux had been haunting a Pokémon Center when Orion had taken him in. Once again, superstition hadn't worked out in the then-Litwick's favour. He wasn't getting so close because he wanted anyone to die. All he wanted was company.

"What else did they tell you?"

The front door swings open of its own accord.

mission: you're not the one
valor: heal bell

Orion shrugs.

"Most old places are. Ghosts gotta live somewhere, yknow?"

He's not stupid, though: if Tam is requesting him, this isn't your run-of-the-mill Gastly playing with the lightbulbs. Rangers usually only got called out on hostile hauntings. Alongside his expertise in search-and-rescue, Orion's dealt with more hauntings than he can count because, as Tam had said, he's the ghost expert.

Though he may have only been invited for his skills, he can't help but to feel excited at the prospect of a proper job. He tries not to look it, but he can't hide the way a smile pulls at the corners of his mouth.

"Anyone home, or have they left the place to us?"

There's an eagerness to his gait as he starts up the path.

mission: you're not the one
valor: heal bell

The old house on Route 110 has been here for generations. Wrought-iron gates creak in the wind, left open by whomever had come before. The ancient façade of the manor looms from its raised slope, light flickering in a broken window.

Orion frowns up at it, puzzled.

"Not that I'm complaining," he starts, turning to Tam Fawley, "but why'd you call me out here?"

It's the first time Tam's asked him on a proper assignment since he'd been put on light duty. At least, he assumes they're still on the clock.

mission: you're not the one
valor: heal bell