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Howard's humour bounces off the wall that is Cillian Quinn.[break][break]

There were other small towns in Hoenn. Oldale, Littleroot, Lavaridge. Any of the others would've drawn far less attention.[break][break]

"And had you thought to inform us of this collaboration?" Us, again. Rocket. "Or were you hoping we wouldn't notice?"[break][break]

He doesn't react to Howard's gesture, regardless of how genuine it was or wasn't. Feelings were the last thing the Admin should be worried about Cillian hurting.

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Noting her cautious approach toward his Pokémon, Cillian assures, "They won't attack unless I order it."[break][break]

Which may or may not actually be reassuring, depending on how she interpreted his characteristically stoic demeanour. He doesn't intend to be threatening, this time, but a predator's teeth are just as threatening in a smile as a snarl.[break][break]

He chuckles humourlessly.[break][break]

"I don't expect it to."[break][break]

And it doesn't feel good. Though he remains largely composed at first, his expression pinching in mild discomfort as the first dose of venom slips into his bloodstream, his stoicism cannot hold long.[break][break]

"Fuck," is all he says at first, fingernails digging against his thigh. Remembering his promise to describe the effects, he grits out, "It burns. Like — more than—"[break][break]

He breaks off with a hissed intake of breath. He doesn't feel angry or exhilarated, as he often did with Nihilego's toxins. He just hurts.[break][break]

"I'm good," he says in spite of it, breathing heavy as he focuses on trying to adjust to the fire in his veins. They pop against taut muscle, rivers of purple against the palour of his skin. "Mm, just didn't expect it to be so intense. Guess it makes sense if the CORROSION is overriding whatever small immunity I might've — built up."[break][break]

He shudders, closing his eyes. "Little dizzy now," is confessed.

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A smile graces his lips, too quick to be anything but genuine. His confidence has faltered at times through grim experience, but @tempest manages to reinforce negative thoughts with his flattering adoration.[break][break]

"Well, thanks."[break][break]

In truth, he himself could scarcely imagine wearing the status of grunt ever again. And he never would, he supposed; even if Walsh were to demote him, he'd still be an executive at worst. One of Rocket's finest, most decorated soldiers.[break][break]

It fills him with pride to think about.[break][break]

A soft laugh escapes him at Temp's dogged assurance against assassination.[break][break]

"I certainly hope not." But a warm look is offered, a silent appreciation for the ferocity with which his Beast will defend him. He could handle himself, sure, but that didn't mean it wasn't nice to have a guard dog snarling at his side.[break][break]

Temp has learned well to telegraph his approach from behind, and so Cillian leans back into his touch without tension. Basic though the massage might be, aching muscles appreciate the attention. Cillian doesn't answer right away, and perhaps Temp might assume it as a sign he's not going to say anything at all. It wouldn't be the first time he deflected talk of Kanto.[break][break]

But there was war on the horizon, and he's come to accept his past.[break][break]

"Brutal," goes without saying. He tips his head back to rest it against Temp's shoulder. "And quick. We had a lot of time to prep, but they didn't have a lot of time to react. Kanto was ours in a matter of days."[break][break]

From their base in Saffron to an entire region on its knees.[break][break]

"You can ask," he says after a pause. "Anything you want."

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"That's not—" But though Cillian starts to correct the turn of phrase, he stops himself. There was no point. He just had to suffer through this one job with the guy and make a point to never intentionally work with him again. "Whatever."[break][break]

There's an easier thing to latch onto, that being: "You should know all of them."[break][break]

It was reprimand, but also advice. It was important to know who ranked above you, who could cut you down for looking at them funny.[break][break]

This wasn't Kanto any more, but old habits died hard.[break][break]

He scoffs at the assumption. "No. We recruit so that we don't stagnate. Like any organization." Fresh blood kept the system alive. "Doesn't mean we're just going to let someone rot on top of this damn volcano."[break][break]

He has to stop to cough several, what ash that sneaks through the dust mask bothering his already damaged throat. It leaves his face flushed and his lungs burning, yet still he persists. It wouldn't kill him. That was all that mattered.[break][break]

He'd lived in Fallarbor, once. The worst decision for relocation; it had been no wonder he'd been able to get the luxurious property on a discount.[break][break]

"That, and one slip'll kill you." It was a long, jagged fall. "Least the ash makes a trail easy to spot. Look."[break][break]

He gestures to partially-filled footprints left in the thick deposits. They were going the right way.

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It felt good to be pulling jobs again. Fieldwork, he called it. The seat of underboss left him with little time to indulge the criminal skills that had seen him rise this far, but it wasn't unlike riding a bike. Just had to shake off a bit of rust.[break][break]

He casts a sly grin toward Frank Caffey when they make it onto the catwalk, his gleaming golden gaze speaking volumes.[break][break]

Frank Caffey's hushed question makes him think of Marcel, how they'd been able to communicate not with words but with sign language. He missed those days of Kanto, but doesn't begrudge Caffey the lack of knowledge.[break][break]

"Whatever's easiest," is the obvious answer, but he adds a clarification of, "Revives will cripple them hardest. Anything like that. You got the Voltorbs ready?"[break][break]

They were meant as a diversion, should they require one.

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"Should I?"[break][break]

Cillian shakes his head, dismissing his similarity to Rocket's other, more volatile avatars. They were not the same.[break][break]

Lugia's power felt like a blessing. From where he was sitting, Elisabeth Fiorelli and jayden cross were cursed.[break][break]

But his expression softens at the genuine concerns. It's not easy for a man like Beckett, he knows. They'd both been trained to hide such things. Taking down those walls was an effort not to be dismissed.[break][break]

"I feel as sound of mind as I ever have." But though Tempest Quinn's fussing had seen him undergo physical examination, he had neglected the avenue of mental health. He felt fine. But just as he'd sought to placate his husband's worries, he sighs after a moment. "No. But I can, if you think it would set your mind at ease."

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Was it discomfort or anger in the tightening of Howard's expression? Something else? Cillian can't say for sure, but the tension in the air is palpable in spite of the Admin's attempts to play it cool.[break][break]

"Bullshit," he says immediately, when Howard dismisses the relevancy of the move. "Maybe if you'd moved to Pacifidlog."[break][break]

But no. He'd chosen to move within the scope of an Elite Four's protection. If it had been Zev Harcourt or bryan delarosa to make the move, Cillian might've favorably assumed a planned assassination. Not from Howard, whose actions have already drawn his suspicious eye.[break][break]

Howard asks how long he's known, and Cillian's smile is without warmth.[break][break]

I'm sure you'd love to know.[break][break]

"I'm the one asking the questions. The truth, now. Why Dewford?"

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"If you miss the work, I can always keep you in mind."[break][break]

Cillian's job was aligned with Chu-e's awful talents. He could certainly pry information from others on his own, but not with the brutal efficiency demonstrated by the man in front of him. Before they'd become friends, Chu-e had terrified him.[break][break]

Now, knowing the man behind the implements of torture, he knows a begrudging respect in place of abject terror.[break][break]

"From all the missions you're not going on?" It's a joke, accompanied by a weak quirk of the lips. He shakes his head. "Seriously, if there's anything I can do for you, just name it. What are friends for, yeah?"[break][break]

Unspoken: We're still friends. Even after everything.[break][break]

"Wanna sit outside while we eat? You look like you could use some sun."

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"For now."[break][break]

Not forever. He will not entertain the thought of being stuck here forever. DESPAIR threatens daily, but he will not allow himself to become so complacent as to give up hope.[break][break]

He frowns at her question. Men like me?[break][break]

"Do we?" But he doesn't rise to bait as he once might have, only shakes his head. "I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint, then. No grand plans as of yet. Only to rally our allies and keep their spirits up. There's strength in numbers, after all. And we may be at odds with the League, but if a riot starts, I'm sure they're just as eager for escape."[break][break]

But the image of prisoners being beaten to death is burned into the back of his mind.[break][break]

"We can't act too soon, though. Have you seen Azelf?"

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Cillian watches the two of them with amused interest, a soft chuckle bubbling in his throat when Calyrex disappears once more.[break][break]

They move away from the furnace as it works its magic, and Aurelie circles back to their earlier talk of fossils. There's an unmistakable spark in the eyes of the Rocket underboss, a brief but genuine smile gracing his lips.[break][break]

"Most aren't," he says of their limitations, shaking his head. "Sure, you have to be careful about ensuring their needs are met like any other Pokémon, but if you chucked a Lileep into the ocean, it'd probably survive. The fossils out of Galar — I mean, you've seen pictures, surely? They don't even look right."[break][break]

His earlier smile returns, broadening to a grin. "That obvious? Yeah, I took my PhD in paleontology." His expression sobers when she asks if he misses it, and he shakes his head. "No regrets, no. Duty bound, and all that." He doesn't think it necessary to elaborate on what duty he means. Rocket is everything to him. There are few more devoted. "I still indulge in my spare time, of course. I have a revival machine in my basement!" He doesn't even realise the slip of the tongue; his house isn't meant to have a basement. But Aurelie doesn't know that, at least. "So feel free to hit me up if you ever come across an intact fossil. I usually won't charge Rockets for the service."[break][break]

It was expensive and usually unaffordable for those living on a typical Rocket paycheck; truly, he just wanted an excuse to bring more fossils to life.

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As the lavender barrier erected by Tempest Quinn fades, frigid water erupts from bursting pipes. Cillian lets out a cry of triumph and grins at priam conrad... but that blazing smile falters as the floor rumbles beneath them.[break][break]

Without his Avatar powers, Cillian feels sluggish and slow to react. The ground splits beneath him and he falls onto a bed of debris, rough edges cutting at exposed skin and blunt force inspiring later bruising. He lays there for a moment, winded and stunned.[break][break]

Slowly, he drags himself up, gingerly checking for further breaks. Though his ribs scream in agony and he limps on an injured leg, there is nothing critical. Nothing to stop him from pressing forward, agonizing though that effort might be.[break][break]

A strong spirit falters at the sight of a leviathan submerged in green liquid, and then he's sprinting despite the pain in his leg. It gives out when he gets close, sending him crashing into the ground. He slams a fist against the tube.[break][break]

"Lugia!"[break][break]

TOXIC CHAINS strangle the Guardian's great neck, her ruby eyes closed. Further chains bind her wings and curl between the spikes of her tail. As Cillian reaches her, Azelf's EXPANDING FORCE explodes throughout the room.[break][break]

Chains break and masks shatter. A brilliant rush of INFINITY ENERGY surges through him, filling the void left by the absence of the chain's power. PRESSURE makes his ears pop as Lugia's wings snap open, casting her Avatar in comforting shadow as he struggles back to his feet.[break][break]

"You're OK," he breathes, relieved.[break][break]

You are not.[break][break]

She eyes him critically, but the sounds of violent destruction overhead cuts their reunion short. Surveying the room, Cillian notices as priam conrad's Guzzlord grows to immense size. It reminds him of the THREE DAY WAR.[break][break]

"Gonna look for a way out."[break][break]

He joins a group approaching a door in the pit, surprised by the screams that greet them when it's opened.[break][break]

"Chill out," he says dismissively. He's leaning his weight against his good leg, breathing heavy. "Not here for you, just looking for an exit." His attention zeroes in on a familiar belt of luxury balls with one particularly eye-catching, currently empty Beast Ball. "And that's my shit."[break][break]

They don't stop him from grabbing up the belt, and one of them gives up Cillian's DYNAMAX BAND when he spots them wearing it.[break][break]

Though she'd indulged in Rocket's supply of DYNAMAX CANDIES, Lugia has yet to utilize the phenomenon since the memory of Galar.[break][break]

Time to change that.[break][break]

"Hey!" he calls out, directed toward fellow Rockets but loud enough for anyone to hear. "They've got our stuff stored back here."[break][break]

He holds up his arm in demonstration, the band gleaming around his wrist, and then activates its power.[break][break]

In a dark reflection of Azelf's EXPANDING FORCE, SHADOW MIASMA pours from Cillian and wreathes his patron in purple-black fog.[break][break]

Lugia lets out a deep cry of challenge as energy surges through her. Her wings shield those that stand beneath her, and she turns her ruby gaze toward the collapsed floor above. Toward the sound of something approaching. Frost builds in the back of her throat, and she expels breath as an ICY WIND to challenge its descent.[break][break]



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Thankfully, all three of them adapt easily to covert conversation. It's almost fun speaking in code, reminds him of lighter days with Marcel when they'd sat up devising their clicks and whistles.[break][break]

"There's been talk of Mossdeep, as well. It has access to some of the best sea routes for shipping and exports."[break][break]

More importantly, it was close to Sootopolis.[break][break]

"Slateport is hard to break into; too many established brands. We could try, I suppose, but I think we'd lose more than we gained in that venture. Dewford is easier to manage, but some of its CEOs are aggressively competitive."[break][break]

He's talking, of course, of Michael Navidson. Perhaps Rocket could take Dewford, but Navy would give them hell in the process.[break][break]

Pacifidlog had come up, as well, but Cillian doesn't mention it. It didn't fit into the analogy so neatly, and he did not wish to speak of his husband's hometown as though it were a prize to be won.[break][break]

"As to the board," with a glance at Amor Rose, "they'll come together in the end. They always do."[break][break]

We always do. There was a reason for that: declan walsh. The Boss had the final say, and they were but puppets dancing on his strings.

ameena abadi seems worried at the prospect of war, and Cillian can't blame her. He'd once dreaded a return to the days of war, of Kanto, but now understands the necessity of violence in their grand scheme.[break][break]

"That's likely," he agrees. "As to necessity, it's all about the growth of the company, in the end. We'll stagnate if we never take risks."

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Several of the crates of medical supplies had come from a heist he'd pulled with Frank Caffey not long ago; though it hadn't gone as smoothly as they'd hoped, they'd gotten their payout in the end.[break][break]

"I'm sure they did," he shrugs, hauling another box — this one labelled SURGICAL — into place. "I didn't. I was just a grunt back then, remember."[break][break]

Worthless to Rocket in the grand scheme of things. Expendable. Not worthy of whatever precious supplies they might've stocked up before their violent assault of the region. He'd treated his injuries at home.[break][break]

And would again if it came to that, in a funny twist of fate, but this time with proper surgical supplies and perhaps the aid of an actual doctor such as caden maher or marcus kotov.[break][break]

He steps back, giving sore muscles a brief rest as he admires their handiwork.[break][break]

"With luck, Sootopolis has enough supplies stored up for everyone, but these are for the brass. I don't want everyone in Rocket knowing exactly where to go if they want an attempt on my life."[break][break]

His smile is dry, the humour grim but honest.

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