"so cute..." he echoes.

following kyle’s gaze at the houndour assaulting the wild pokemon with the rest of the canine pack, dominic almost doesn’t notice his own houndoom stir from its sleep.

a gardevoir had appeared from thin air, perhaps choosing to TELEPORT nearby. this is a grievous mistake for two reasons - firstly, the houndoom is little more than an attack dog, and secondly, it shares its trainer’s loathing for that species of pokemon. enraged at being woken from his nap, the houndoom lunges forward with fangs bared, apparently intending to tear the gardevoir limb from limb.

dominic’s eyes widen and he tosses out an empty pokeball capsule at the wild pokemon simply to stop kyle from noticing his houndoom’s particular kind of violence.

"he hates being woken from his naps," dominic explains quickly, turning to kyle with a strained attempt at a smile.

kyle lopez
capture attempt at gardevoir

dominic’s fingertips brush against the ice and he briefly finds himself reminiscing. he’s only been in hoenn for two years but it feels like it’s been longer since he’s seen naturally occurring snow.

his gaze shifts from the floor to the dragonair and finally to marcel. for perhaps the hundredth time, dominic finds himself wondering how marcel can stand being in a fucking suit. just looking at him made dominic want to take his own SHIRT OFF.

"do you think you could if you tried?" he asks, rhetorical. dominic could vaguely recall marcel successfully supporting his weight at the recent beach party.

marcel maeda

he’ll see a challenge even where there isn’t one. dominic is statuesque in the dim light, and his shadowed silhouette stretches beyond him - adversarial in its own right.

"yeah? you want a closer look?" his voice is soft and dropped low as he advances closer. dominic doesn’t bother to veil the implicit threat, his narrowed eyes lingering on the smoke of marcel’s cigarette.

marcel doesn’t know what it looks like to see your skin shift in the shadow. marcel doesn’t know what it means to feel boneless. dominic’s lip curls, mirthless.

"the fuck is your problem, maeda?"

marcel maeda

dominic drops his sylveon to the ground with little ceremony. the pokemon looks up at him with something resembling disbelief and dominic just stares back at it blankly.

after a moment he just jerks his chin toward his teammate's pokemon and the sylveon uses PSYCH UP again.

wTI2f1Fy + 60

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marcel maeda Kazimir Wynter kyle lopez

the crowd is still here, and dominic's only solace is that at least his teammates all appear equally annoyed. he struggles to keep his expression impassive because the alternative is lashing out with hostility.

dominic places the sylveon down on the ground again, ready to leech the boosts provided by the other pokemon.

"go on," he drawls, nudging the pokemon with his foot. the sylveon mewls a response and begins to PSYCH UP before preparing to tackle the rest of the course.

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Remiel Calcifet kyle lopez Laurence Anderson

dominic sinclair does not know why he is here. he hears camera shutters going off and tries to place kyle between himself and the crowd.

"what the fuck," he murmurs under his breath, clutching the sylveon closer to his chest for a moment. the sylveon flexes its little ribbon appendages reassuringly when dominic places it down next to the pokemon of his teammates.

"just keep following them," dominic says, uncertain. the order prompts the sylveon to PSYCH UP and follow the other pokemon, hurtling through barrels and obstacles with strength exceeding its own.

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Remiel Calcifet kyle lopez Laurence Anderson

the job is a perfect fit. at some point, dominic's gengar had apparently developed a penchant for watching reality tv singing competitions when its trainer left it in his apartment. this love for music manifested itself in various ways, primarily in the form of singing various discordant renditions of PERISH SONGS.

and now? the gengar relished in this opportunity to serenade as many callers as possible. the pokemon would stand on an office chair at a desk, lining up phone receivers, grinning at the abusive voices on the other end. and then it would open its mouth and serenade them with the best melodies it could muster. the aggressive yelling would turn to screaming - it's a fine distinction, but the gengar would pick up on it.

it doesn't matter to him. he just wants to sing, and finally he has an audience.

marcel maeda maverick noah ryder oscar clayton Igor priam conrad Selena Desmarais Laurence Anderson

CANON SPOT
rocket underboss for dominic sinclair, 200pd

the gengar responds to billi's praise with a wide, toothy grin. it claps its hands together and watches the man carefully and then joins iris's marshtomp is attempting to mirror the choreography.

dominic gives billi the ghost of smile and rubs his nose with the back of his hand, as though embarrassed by it.

"yeah? how long does it have to be?" dominic frowns and pulls out his phone to search for examples of other performances in the cute category. "they can probably do that for 2-3 minutes."

@iris Billi Marsh

dominic’s gaze flickers between mcflurry and marcel as he shifts forward - movement leisurely but deliberate. he places one arm around marcel’s shoulders, drink still in hand. ice clinks against glass. craning his head to study marcel’s face, dominic’s lips are parted as though in thought - marcel will catch the derision in the way his mouth curls, the way mirth glimmers in narrowed eyes.

"yeah? alright then," dominic says softly. he turns to face mcflurry. "intel, huh? you two will have… so much fun. together. i am-" though his expression remains impassive, only briefly biting his lip, marcel may feel dominic’s body shudder with barely suppressed laughter.

"i am looking forward to hearing all about it. i think you will make an incredible team."

dominic removes his arm from marcel’s shoulders and finishes the drink he had been holding, tossing a few bills on the bar between them.

marcel maeda mclaren mcflurry

he is so very, very glad that altaria can fly. dominic smiles vaguely at the pokemon, and he swears that the expression it wears is on its bird features is concern so he reaches out and gives it a pat on the beak.

"sports... sports... sports are fun," he says haltingly and with little conviction.

casting another long look at its trainer, the altaria fluffs up its wings with COTTON GUARD.

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dominic accepts the drink from samuel and throws his head back to finish it off. he's wincing only very slightly when he pulls the glass back from his lips. the sylveon he held under in one arm squirms in his grip.

his tongue feels numb and foreign in his mouth. dominic stares at the glass with something like a forlorn expression and then wordlessly places it on a nearby bench.

"i don't know what that was," he says darkly to the group.

he's pretty sure the sylveon he throws onto the course belongs to marcel (it doesn't). the pokemon looks at him for orders and dominic vaguely gestures to the audino, which the sylveon takes to mean "use PSYCH UP."

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marcel maeda priam conrad Samuel Boothe

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"i just might try it."

the very sudden burst of cold makes dominic flinch and sit up straight. his gaze flickers from the floor to marcel and his dragonair and then back down again. after a moment he snaps a chunk of his popsicle with his teeth and chews on it thoughtfully.

the carpet and the floorboards underneath will be utterly fucked after the ice melts and the water sweeps through to rot the wood and grow mould. it’s a lesson he learned after a similar incident in one of his first apartments back in saffron - it wasn't exactly a BIG BRAIN MOMENT. he was almost starting to feel sorry for the occupants of the place - first the absurd electricity bill for the air conditioner and now this.

"interesting," he says slowly. "this fucker is going to slip and break both ankles without us doing anything."

against his better judgement, dominic gingerly slides himself off the sofa to touch the ice with his outstretched palm.

marcel maeda