dominic looks annoyed, somehow even moreso than usual.

he exhales dramatically when zacharias spills his drink, shares a meaningful glance with his neighbour (craning his neck just so he can catch a glimpse of their hand), and then spends the remainder of the time glowering and rearranging his wads of cash and chips.

he's satisfied by the time zacharias is done cleaning up, by which point the placement of his pool should indicate to zacharias which cards the player has, allowing them to adjust accordingly.

@zacharias

the jab staggers him, as if burke had just physically struck out at him. dominic makes an annoyed sound in the back of his throat - half snarl, half growl - but is too stubborn to halt his advance until he is centimeters from the expanse of rubble.

he blinks slowly at the rock as if expecting to find a sign pointing to the exit in the cracks, and listens to zacharias's spluttering coughs in a satisfied silence.

"zach?" dominic ventures after some seconds that feel more like minutes. he rubs his nose with the back of his hand and swings around to look at him with a vacant stare.

"did you bring either pokemon or shovels?"

dominic? he brought neither.

@zacharias

when zacharias calls the depicted pokemon by name, dominic nods seriously and is quick to echo him as if he weren't a syllable behind. "s-swablu? yeah," dominic repeats, narrowing his eyes at the birdies and nodding knowingly.

rejoined by zacharias, dominic wrinkles his nose in distaste at the bag of parmesan - he never really was a cheese guy, and parmesan in particular has that nasty sharp taste.

"that smells like fermented milk," he says flatly and swivels his head back to survey the portrait with something resembling renewed interest.

"people really do like dragons, huh. always found them as overrated as those little white and green psychic bitches everyone in this region seems to have."

dominic raises one shoulder in a shrug. they always go down so easily, too.

@zacharias

not at the sound of his name but at the screech of car tires does dominic come bounding over like an over-excited growlithe pup. his gait is so unsteady that by the time he comes near, his own tiny cocktail glass is functionally empty.

he halts and watches the car lurch backwards, doors still hanging open. zacharias loses his balance, and dominic exhales sharply as his war veteran instincts churn into overdrive. in a flash, he puts his little glass down on a nearby bench and sprints over to his fallen companion.

"hey, hey, hey!" he hollers at them both, waving his arms around. he nudges zacharias with his foot and reaches for the beer crate. "careful with that, you ingrate."

dominic feels a tap on his shoulder, and spins around, lashing out with a fist without thinking. the driver of the car drops to the asphalt straight on his ass, hand flying to his face to rub his cheek more from shock than pain.

@zacharias + priam conrad

dominic's knuckles ache with a phantom pain. he thinks he can hear the crack of snapping cartilage with every footstep. the thing is, he already knows the warehouses are haunted.

the houndoom pads between the two men, nose to ground and exhaling tendrils of smoke as it tries to find a scent to follow. they do two laps before the dog perks up and quickens its pace. when they approach the identified doors, dominic turns to zacharias with a toothy gash of a smile.

"we just clearing them out or are you looking for a new friend?"

@zacharias

he's glad zacharias was the one who had to play the babysitter role for two primary reasons. firstly, dominic knew a scowl had etched itself into the muscle of his face, and no parent in their right mind would allow him near their child. secondly, this meant he was afforded the opportunity to see zacharias in a sweater vest.

dominic scoffed when he entered, regarding zacharias's wound with a brief glance.

"woah. does the fucker still have its teeth intact?"

he couldn't yet hear crying or screaming from the depths of the house, which pleased him because dominic found the sound of wailing children uniquely aggravating.

dominic steps further into the hallway, clicking his tongue in delight when he sees a family portrait featuring the two parents and their son - all holding a swablu each.

"i'm hoping they have some of those in pokeballs lying around," he says, pointing at the fluffy birds.

"i hear they fetch a good price in johto. you'd know, i'm sure."

@zacharias

he's here to make sure the method actually works, and sleight of hand is a skill that comes as easily to his muscles as writing his name.

maybe if he were much younger, dominic would have found the establishment and its patrons to be refined, but now that he's allowed among them it all feels almost comically farcical.

he takes another mouthful of whiskey, and as he throws his head back his eyes settle on another player. the recognition in his lingering gaze is muted, and when he thinks son of a bitch it's with a trace of fondness given their shared affinity.

dominic places his glass back down carefully. with a purposeful motion, he places another stack of rubber band-bound money on the table at an angle pointing directly to another player, designating a target to whipsaw between them.

@zacharias

dominic was not used to cheering and applause and while it lasted, it wasn't unpleasant.

by all accounts, he divided his time equally prior to the collapse: drinking freely, recoiling from physical contact, borderline roughly grasping burke by the scruff of his shirt to not lose him in the crowd, and apparently singing into the shitty, cheap karaoke machine.

he was still gripping the cordless microphone tightly as he came to his senses, and although his face tingled with the tell-tale sign of alcohol ingestion his thoughts were characterised by a marked clarity. displaced lights cast broken shadows along the walls, and he concentrated on them until he felt his vision steady enough for him to pull himself upright.

"don't use my fucking name," he snapped into the approximate direction of burke.

dominic staggered forward like a shambling corpse, still holding the microphone in one hand. he became aware of its weight slowly, and allowed his grip to loosen until it dropped to the floor and sent distorted feedback ringing through the speakers set up somewhere in the cavern's depths.

he took a long moment to eye zacharias before speaking.

"i am leaving," dominic stated matter-of-factly as if it really were that simple. he side-stepped zacharias and walked ahead with a confidence that he had no right having.

@zacharias

after fallarbor, dominic puts caspian ellery to rest a second time. he folds the ranger uniform and leaves it on an unmade bed with the dead man's trainer card. he leaves the door to the abandoned slateport apartment unlocked. he makes a call to mossdeep as dominic sinclair and wonders when the name began to feel like it belongs to someone else.

the voice on the other end pauses, and dominic can hear the clatter of keyboard keys. dominic wonders if he imagines the almost mocking lilt in the operator's tone.

"i can maybe arrange a discount. we already ordered in some of the replacement parts for your modem."

dominic mulls over it silently but experience has taught him to be frugal. instead of thank you, he says "i'll be there in three days."

standing at the slateport docks, he throws the cellphone into the glistening waves with a violence that ripples under the skin and never quite fades away.

the ferry takes three days. he stays in his cabin and pores over the deluge of information fed to the public via the media, watching in awe and wonder as the rocket network blinks out of view. dominic only opens his door when his neighbours complain that they can smell his cigarette smoke through the air vents and don't you know that's against the ship's terms of service?

mossdeep is, for the most part, shattered, and dominic doesn't exactly blink. the electronics store is in a district spared the brunt of the destruction, tucked between a fish and chips shop and a post office.

dominic enters the small interior and takes his place in front of the register alongside another customer. out of the corner of his eye he sees dark hair and familiar features. he shakes his head and wonders how this is possible.

@zacharias

character tag: dominic sinclair [break]
pokemon & movesets (max 3): [break]
houndoom, flash fire | roar, smog, beat up, flamethrower, inferno, crunch (+ z-moves) [break]
bisharp, defiant | stone edge, stealth rock, steel beam, dig, iron head, feint attack [break]
klefki, prankster | crafty shield, play rough, spikes, mirror coat, heal block, switcheroo [break]
notes: :aero: