[Jacinthe is a simple woman, all be told. A socialite who longs for nothing more than to ensure that all goes her way, from her various parties to her every battle. And she's certainly a tough customer as well; she may not have been a trainer for nearly as long as some of the people taking part in this competition, but Jacinthe was a serious competitor. She knew how to command her Pokemon with the grace expected of an elite, and she had every intention of winning the Z-A Royale so she could encourage those around her to follow her lead. And her every whim, but when your every whim is a delightful party with friends of all kinds, who can truly complain? Certainly nobody in her earshot ever has, after all!
It's why Jacinthe is so puzzled and confused about what happened at one of her recent gatherings. Honestly, she's quite lucky that someone knocked what she was about to eat out of her hands and onto the floor--impolite party manners couldn't be excused, but Jacinthe had seen Lebanne's face going a color she'd never seen before, and...
(The ambulance hadn't told her anything, despite it being her darling retainer who had suffered the most grievously. She hasn't received any updates on her situation either, and...)
...That's not going to stop Jacinthe from trying to live the life she's always wanted, but it's certainly put her in quite the mood! No need to sour things for the public, of course; her staff worried after her (and her optimism that everything would be okay when it VERY CLEARLY was not), of course, but that was fine! Jacinthe could work with this, they just had to find who did it. Which is certainly easier said than done; Emma, who has gladly taken the case (read: has been paid to help) has told her that this will take some time, and though Jacinthe has provided her all of the pieces she can to put this puzzle together, it seems as if this case is one tough nut to crack! She's been advised to stay out of the public eye for a bit, which means no parties. Which means not seeing her friends and only seeing the staff members who have to keep delivering the news that Lebanne still hasn't come home, and...
No matter! Jacinthe also has access to everything she gave to Emma--she's not sure if it's purely distrust that motivated her to keep secondary copies, but it perplexed her deeply. Poison...surely she can't have been that rude of a host to Corbeau and his retainer, right? Not even at this party, but during her lovely tournament she let him battle to his heart's content, and while she would have loved to see that strength for herself, fate had very different plans.
If Jacinthe's being honest with herself, she doesn't like the idea of a dear friend having hurt her so deeply over something as simple as a poor tournament. And truthfully...she's been doing her best to ignore the anger building in her, the one that's trying to connect dots and sees red, because if someone has hurt what's hers? She's not letting that go easily. No, no, not at all.
The SBC themselves have been little help, her dear friends worried for themselves and seeking protections. And truthfully, Jacinthe had as well, but it seemed as if there was no proper way for her to do so, which confused her deeply. But she's stayed in Lumiose, trying to ignore everything in favor of continuing to live and keep the SBC from acting rashly in her honor.
What she doesn't expect is a summons from the Rust Syndicate. Or rather; Corbeau himself.
She hadn't been sure of what to make of the call; the servant (he's just like her, right? he employs those to help him.) seems nervous about calling her, telling her that she needs to come alone and come promptly to the headquarters. A saner, more rational person could see this as the trap that it was, but Jacinthe, oblivious as ever, sees this as an opportunity.
After all, if Corbeau did do this or had one of his servants do so, she could expose him easily and frankly get rid of his influence in the city. But, a distant part of her reminds--he's powerful as well. Sure, he wasn't born elite, but he's living proof that anyone can climb themselves up to the upper echelons with hard work and true determination. He even helps people around town, or so the rumors go!
It's a win either way. She gets closure, or she can pay him for protection; after all, he's only just below her in rank. He's strong, and she has plenty of money. Perhaps she can even offer a temporary truce to sweeten the deal, but Jacinthe is getting ahead of herself. Her friend wants to see her, and she intends to do just that.
Unfortunately for her (but fortunately for Corbeau thanks to the lack of prying eyes), she seems to have dressed up in a much less...socialite outfit for the day, her servants insisting on a disguise so she could make it in without drawing attention. Of course, the second she gets inside, she has to take the frankly ridiculous hat and hood hiding her hair off so she can actually let it breathe. Gah! She's never doing that again.
(She's also ignoring what feels like almost...chilling glances from the servants in Corbeau's employ. It's fine. This is just to be a discussion between friends.
...Why does it feel like she's just walked into a Pyroar's den, then? Her pulse spikes, and it takes all she can to stay in the elevator with two of the servants and wait until it opens.)
Once she's up there...she has to admit, this is a much classier look than she was expecting! Darker, of course, but Jacinthe saunters in with a bright (forced) smile on her face as she sees Corbeau at the end of his desk there.]
Ah, dear Corbeau! It has been far too long since we last spoke! How fares...
[...
This isn't right. Something's missing, no--someone, and in a perhaps surprisingly perceptive motion, the cheer disappears from her expression when she sees that a certain servant of Corbeau's isn't with him. That's...it sees her words stop for a good couple of seconds, before she tries to recover.
Her heart isn't in it, though, and feels like it's sinking.]
For as long as Corbeau has known him, the man has been unflinchingly predictable. He is a man who remains stalwart in his beliefs and thoughts regardless of what challenges he faces. He is a man of principle and honor, and one Corbeau has come to rely on more than he ever would have thought possible. He's also an exceptionally skilled trainer and one who can fend for himself; Corbeau had barely batted an eye when the man said he had a lead he was going to look into, because Philippe would - and should - have been fine.
And yet it's been days and there's been no contact. The entire Rust Syndicate is unsettled and uneasy, and it isn't just because their leader is. Corbeau may be in charge, but many of their older members once served Philippe. He is the backbone of the Rust Syndicate, and for him to vanish into thin air is infuriating. Who would dare mess with him? Who would dare mess with the Rust Syndicate?
Corbeau has eyes and ears throughout the city, and the most he's managed is tracing Philippe's steps. The man hadn't intentionally hid information from Corbeau, but it isn't as though he'd given him many details on just what he was looking into, only that it had to do with the recent troubles befalling members of the Z-A Royale. Jacinthe's latest tourney had ended abruptly due to one of these incidents, and from the reports he's received, it seems her retainer is still in the hospital recovering. Philippe's last known location was clearly following the trail left in the wake of this attack - and the Rust Syndicate is (rightfully) wary of the woman herself.
Jacinthe is nothing to scoff at. Oh, sure, he'd dismissed her as an airheaded, dumbass rich kid at first - hard not to, given her general demeanor and insistence on everything going her way - but that's not all she is. With money comes power, something Corbeau knows all too well. He's worked his way up this far and he knows the extent of his own reach throughout Lumiose, so clearly hers is even greater. Old money like that can reach places even he can't. And with Philippe having vanished entirely... well, might as well start with the woman herself and either rule out her involvement entirely or lead her into the Arbok's den.
Truthfully, he's surprised when she agrees to come and makes her way in willingly. Surely she can see that this is a trap set for her... but maybe without her retainer, she doesn't have any others jumping to defend her. Hardly his place to question his good fortune, so he'll leave it for now.
Golden eyes watch her unblinkingly as she glances away from him, to the spot where Philippe should be standing. It is empty now, of course, leaving just the two of them in the room. The other members of the Rust Syndicate wait outside, Pokémon at the ready should it turn to a fight. Not that he'd be in too much danger if it does; Poison does fare well against Fairies, after all.]
No sense in friendly banter; you want to know why I called you here.
[It isn't a question, he's certain of that. Corbeau pushes his glasses up, eyes narrowing as he continues.]
Philippe is missing. [Not information he'd like to hand over, but information that can be found if one were to look hard enough anyway.] Last time we had contact with him, he was looking into matters involving the recent attacks on members of the Z-A Royale. More specifically, your organization - the Society of Battle Connoisseurs.
[He lets that hang in the air for a long moment; let her put the pieces together and realize the danger she's in if she doesn't tell him what he wants to know.]
Tell me what you know about his disappearance.
[...Though given her reaction, he has a feeling he already knows the answer.]
[The room feels colder, icy almost. It feels as if a draft has more than entered the room--no, it feels like a Blizzard, those yellow eyes so cold and different from the distant, but at least entertaining air he's shown. Corbeau cuts to the heart of the matter with an ease that almost makes Jacinthe flinch, and in truth, something in her face has begun to neutralize as she stares at him.
She doesn't like this. She doesn't like his tone, the unearthly cold that's letter her know just how much danger she's in if she doesn't answer properly. But she tries to run everything through her head that she knows of him, trying to rationalize it all as he spells everything out for her. Phillipe was looking into what happened with her society--in truth, she hadn't expected the Rust Syndicate to get involved at all, and she wouldn't have wanted to put her dear friends in danger like this! It's better to leave the business of police work to actual police, rather than those who think they know better about the order than those trained for it...
It's strange, how her face doesn't even know what to do in this situation, and it's likely obvious as the seconds tick by that she's...thrown, thrown by all of this. She finally manages to speak up after some time, but...]
I...had only contacted Detective Emma about the situation that happened. [Her tone is still friendly, but it seems to have chilled just the slightest bit in kind as she realizes how little control she has over this situation right now. And she hates not being in control, she stands with her back straightened and her hands clasped in front of her--closed off. Watching him like he watches her.] If someone else was looking into matters of the Society, then I had not been made aware of such things at all--nor have I even seen hide or hair of the man. I would think that my dear servants, they would have at least let me know of such a thing...
[The cheer is forced. So, so very forced, but it's all she has to fall back on. But she's being truthful, and though her heart aches for what she can only imagine is a heavy blow to himself--]
At minimum, I suppose I owe my servants a very strict talking to tonight. But...when did Phillipe start looking into these matters, my friend?
[Corbeau watches as her posture tightens almost imperceptibly. She recognizes the danger she's in now - if she wasn't fully aware of it before, anyway - and answers with the practiced ease and grace he'd expect of her. The answer is what he expected as well, though some part of him had hoped that this would be easier. No, it makes sense - she doesn't know, which is why she willingly walked in here on her own, because she hadn't realized the danger.
He exhales, finally breaking that unblinking, Seviper-like stare.]
He told me he planned to stay out of your hair if he could help it. [Mostly because he didn't want to get roped into some more shenanigans.] But the guy's not exactly stealthy. Strange you wouldn't have heard anything.
[Information for information. Corbeau rests an elbow on the desk and then his chin on his hand.]
Four days ago is when he went missing; we lost contact with him shortly after his last report to me indicating that he was going to begin looking into matters with the SBC.
[Which is exactly why he wanted to speak with Jacinthe to begin with. Assuming she was responsible - or even those beneath her - wouldn't do when there's still a very real possibility that it could have been someone else who caught Philippe before he even managed finding anything of interest.]
You've heard that several others in the Z-A Royale have fallen ill, vanished, or otherwise become unable to compete recently, I assume.
[She can likely see where he's going with this already, but like he said, no sense in pleasantries right now.]
[And thus has begun a much more secure experience of attempting to find out what has happened to their dearest servants--and perhaps most importantly, any and all future friends of the tournaments she wants to host. Frankly after this, she's fully intending on hosting a special soiree for the Rust Syndicate members to earn some money, but...
Well, that's besides the point. The SBC building is every bit as pompous and opulent as one might expect, and she doubts Corbeau needs the grandest of tours--but Jacinthe has made sure that the SBC knows that Corbeau is an honored guest, and that she will not tolerate any slights against him. They are to be on their best behavior, with them and any other honored members of the Rust Syndicate who must come by.
Corbeau will notice it perhaps better than Jacinthe, that for some, her commentary goes in one ear and out the other. Sure, her sycophants hang on her every word, and there's...one, maybe two people who could almost be read as genuinely liking her. But there's eyerolling in the crowd that Jacinthe steamrolls past, or just doesn't seem to notice outright. It's almost worse if he keeps his ears to the ground, too; that they don't know what she could possibly be thinking, keeping this...rabble around. Most simply assume it a flight of whimsy and accept it. Others fully intend on going through so-called 'avenues' to try and get Jacinthe to reconsider. Others...
...Well, there is some talk from people in hushed tones, but they seem to be much more apt to stay out of Corbeau's hair, outright avoiding him. But he can definitely gather the impression that there are a fair amount of people who...really don't care what happens to her.
But that's besides the point; it's been a few days now at the SBC, and Jacinthe received a call this morning from Emma about a place that needed some extra hands to investigate. That Emma felt bad about asking such a thing of Jacinthe and Corbeau, knowing the danger that it could put them in during the day--but much like the force of nature she is, Jacinthe took upon the task of investigating the area near the sewers today, hoping to find some evidence of their potential perpetrator. Perhaps even find where they're hiding Phillipe.
Of course, there's not much luck today; they're nearing the end of the searchable areas in the sewers, and they seem to have come up empty handed so far...]
Well, it would seem that this is the last area we have not checked over...goodness, I do hope we are able to find something. [...Jacinthe, failing a spot check as ever, goes to check the one side of the room with nothing if Corbeau wants to check the other, which seems to have something that shines in the light--?] Corbeau, dear, are you having any luck?
[Spending time with Jacinthe like this has been... something. Yeah, sure, let's just leave it at "something". Maybe not quite as bad as he was expecting in some ways, far worse in others. That woman has a way of managing to irritate the absolute hell out of him, while at the same time never actually making such a nuisance of herself that it'd be better to call this whole thing off. She allows him plenty of time to carry out his own duties - including using said time to try to get a read on the SBC members. In fact, that might be softening the blow of her unstoppable force to his immovable object (his ego); there's a disconnect between Jacinthe and her followers. He didn't expect them to be anything like the Rust Syndicate because they aren't structured the same or serve the same purpose. The Rust Syndicate is a home for those without one, a place to belong and fit in as long as you follow the rules and carry out your orders to the best of your ability and don't disappoint Corbeau repeatedly. You pat my back, I'll pat yours, that sort of thing.
But the SBC... Well, they're a group of battle-obsessed rich kids who have their own ideals, purposes, and goals, and they don't all align with Jacinthe. In fact, he'd guess that most don't align with Jacinthe. There are those who seem to hang on her every word, but just as many he's caught rolling their eyes or looking at him with disdain, like the woman's words mean absolutely nothing to them. Not the same style of leadership as within the Rust Syndicate, surely, but she shouldn't be ignored so blatantly either.
Needless to say, he doesn't like it, and he can't help but feel a bit bad for her. Is she even aware of it...? Well, it's not like he's going to burst her bubble if she isn't. The important thing is that the SBC isn't entirely free of suspicion - some of them might have reason to want to do away with her if it means they could ascend to her position, after all. Maybe they had something to do with Philippe's disappearance as well. Hard to say right now, unfortunately.
And still hard to say even after Emma's pointed them in a direction - Corbeau appreciates any and all info, sure, but heading out to hit the ground themselves is a bit dangerous. Perhaps they should've brought some Rust Syndicate members along... but it's too late for regrets now. This seems to have been a bust, but it's as Jacinthe is speaking that he notices something. It could just be light reflecting off a Pokéball or a Potion or something, but you never know until you check, right? So off he goes!]
Not sure; give me a moment.
[While he's examining this, he keeps speaking:] We should head back soon. Don't want to be out too late, especially down here.
[Not that it'd be a problem for him, but Jacinthe stands out like a sore thumb, and even worse, she'd likely complain the entire time if the sun sets and they have to walk all the way back. With any luck, the battle zones won't be anywhere nearby, but better to return before dark just to be safe.]
[It's while Jacinthe is looking around that she hears Corbeau, unable to find anything on her own--granted, she's about as useful at investigations as anything else, but she's at least trying her best. Which may very well make this attempt come off as pretty sad, honestly...]
Very well, friend! I do believe I am about done over here; a shame that these walls could not provide us with the...what is the word, "smoking gun" that we need? I haven't the faintest of why they call it that...
[Please stop getting caught up in schemantics--
But Corbeau will be able to find one poison bottle! Or, well, a pretty large piece of it--it seems like someone did make an attempt at destroying the evidence, but there's still enough identifying features to prove where it's from. A large piece of a Koffing on the label, and some words in Kantonnian along the bottom...
Perhaps thankfully for Corbeau's piece of mind (though not by much), there's no blood on it, so it doesn't seem to have been used for anything else. But it's seen better days.]
But you are right. I truly wish Clefable could fly us back home with ease...or perhaps that I had caught a flying type when I was younger. My feet are going to be so sore once I get home! I'm going to need a foot bath on the double.
[But alright, she's done, she's going over to him--she'll even offer a hand up, if he needs it.]
[Hah, that's definitely going to prove useful. He can't make out exactly what the words are - or even which language (and if I'm jossed on this I'll laugh) - but this proves that it isn't his handiwork. Sure, the Rust Syndicate deals in poisons, but theirs aren't in bottles like this, or use language like that. Corbeau retrieves a pair of gloves from his pocket, as well as a bag to place the bottle in.]
Wouldn't call it the "smoking gun", but turns out we've got something out of our little trip down here.
[He holds the bag up for her to see, a smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth.]
Koffing on the label and foreign script; I'd guess this is our missing poison. Emma should be able to get some use outta this.
[The next week is pretty uneventful all around, unfortunately; Emma certainly appreciates their work in getting that piece of evidence for her, to say the least. It doesn't help that one of the members of Team MZ is now out of commission, and while Jacinthe didn't know her particularly well, a broken leg like that with a love of dancing...Jacinthe has already made an anonymous donation to the hospital, though they've made it very clear that she needs to stop prying into the business of other patients that aren't immediate family. It stings, not knowing anything. Perhaps now more than ever, Jacinthe gets the pain of everything being in flux even worse now, being not much closer to finding their culprit, or anything out.
Jacinthe worries after Corbeau and how he's taking this, but she's still not great at it. But they seem to have reached some sort of understanding, to help prevent their stress levels from skyrocketing.
Jacinthe battles Corbeau, both to take the out the stress of missing her old world of revelry that she cannot have anymore, and to help keep both of their skills sharp. It's stress relief, in a way. Their win to loss ratio has evened out, and each and every battle feels more freeing due to them changing their strategies up. She may still be every bit the annoying woman she'll always be, and he may still be a stubborn cad, but things almost feel amiable, now.
...Or well, at least they did, up until about two days ago when a fancy letter finally came into the mail. One of the maids brought it in with a stone-faced serious expression, and Jacinthe's whole expression seemed to pale and go blank the second she realized who it was from.
Her Mother and Father. Rusco and Themida--names Lumiose City had known for quite some time before, before their retirement. They only occasionally come back to the city in order to keep tabs on things with the SBC's primary branch, given their intent on expanding. They are the literal definition of shrewd business people, having made their business seemingly clandestine, though their reputation definitely precedes them even now.
The letter is read immediately, and Jacinthe doesn't even seem to hear any questions at first--of course they would be concerned about events going on in Lumiose, considering the fact that it's been costing the SBC connections that they could be making and has generally seemed to have made the town just that much more scared. And of course, (almost as an afterthought) their precious pumpkin's safety. So they've decided that they want to come on down to check in on things themselves.
It takes every fiber of Jacinthe's being to not tear the letter. She's shaking something fierce, and perhaps now more than ever, that deeply annoying mask is welded onto her face as the day of their arrival gets closer. She's insufferably cheerful and perfectly fine, or at least she says. She barely even notices the sharp voice that she takes with every detail of the cleaning of the house, making sure it's up to their standard. She barely notices just how much she's trying to isolate herself to prevent herself from exploding outright, and her boudoir's cleaning (read: finding the most obscure place in the house to hide anything that indicates she has an Interest in anything, because Arceus forbid--) takes her an entire day at least to make it look presentable and ladylike as her bedroom. Which. She literally only uses for sleeping, don't worry about it--
But point is, Jacinthe has been distant, and incredibly so, even refusing battles. And while she has done her best to avoid being unnecessarily cruel to the man who she's hired to protect her, she has made one order very clear; Corbeau needed to get away from this place before their arrival.
Her parents will be arriving in a few hours from now. The last minute preparations are a whirlwind, food in the kitchen being tested almost four times over, rearranging artworks and cleaning every single bit of dust that could possibly exist taking up that last portion of time while Jacinthe barks orders out to her staff.]
Darling, I told you not a speck of dust! Please, clean the cabinet again, chop chop! We cannot afford to be sloppy. [Jacinthe looks to another staff members work on the windows, her expression souring.] No streaks, how many times do I have to tell you?! Do it again, and do it properly this time! I will not have any mistakes!
[A week passes. Still no word from Philippe. The Rust Syndicate's eyes and ears throughout the city report on the various happenings - disappearances, injuries, people suddenly withdrawing from the Z-A Royale and the like - but they haven't found anything else. Even with that fantastic piece of evidence, Emma hasn't been able to pin anything on anyone either, it seems. It's so damn frustrating. The only thing he really has to look forward to are battles with Jacinthe, because everything else feels like struggling to swim with a lead weight dragging him under.
But it seems that things aren't going well even in the SBC's little paradise either. It's been hard to figure out exactly what had Jacinthe so flustered in that letter, but eventually he overheard the servants talking about "the Madam and Master" and he can only assume that means Jacinthe's parents. She's old money, and that money must come from somewhere, so they're undoubtedly the ones behind Jacinthe's free-for-all spending. Corbeau's curious about them, sure, but that isn't the reason why he's been sticking around despite every single warning (verbal from Jacinthe and otherwise) telling him to get the hell out.
He's never seen Jacinthe this flustered. He didn't think anything could rile her like this. It isn't her fearsome temper, it's... fear, maybe. She starts refusing battles and focuses on making everything just so, and Corbeau feels even more like a Magikarp out of water in this hall. Seems like the deadline's fast approaching, because Jacinthe is treating the servants far worse than usual when he looks into the room.]
Are they really going to scour every inch of this place looking for dust?
[Hiya, Jacinthe, guess who didn't leave and is still here.]
And what is with this carpet! I ordered it deep cleaned, not 'good enough' clean! If it doesn't look like new by the time they arrive, they will be very--
[It's in the midst of this yelling, grabbing a duster for herself and looking back so she can perfectionize another part of the house that Jacinthe's ears catch a familiar voice, and she practically whips her head around so fast that she gets whiplash.]
--Did I not tell you to make yourself scarce, Corbeau?
[There's no attempt at the pleasant politeness she always carries, not even her little darlings or dears or greetings; this is pure stress, and she's trying not to yell at him but--
Hang on, she's going to sashay past him to dust off something. It may have only had a tiny bit of dust on it, but she dusts it like there's no tomorrow.]
Of course I am; they will most assuredly check every inch of this house over! I need it to be perfect. It must be perfect for them, they'll accept no less.
And you need to leave, while there's still time. You can borrow Gardevoir's Poke Ball, even, if having her teleport you back to your headquarters is preferable, but I told you, you cannot be here for this.
You hired me for a job, remember? I can't keep you safe if I'm not here to look after you.
[It shouldn't be necessary for him to stay around her 24/7, but frankly, he doesn't trust the entirety of the SBC. He hasn't told her as much yet, because drawing her attention to those who are rude just out of earshot or rolling their eyes behind her back is mostly just going to be pointless. If she doesn't already know, then it'll just upset her and she doesn't need that right now. If she's already aware of it, it's just a slap in the face. So no, better to keep those concerns to himself and keep an eye out on his own. But leaving her alone is not a good idea, regardless of who's paying a visit to the place.]
What, are you worried my presence here's going to upset them?
[He's seen the way some of the SBC look at him, and it's not entirely unfamiliar. For those who recognize who he is, he's scum because he runs the damn mafia. For those who don't, he's just some common thug allowed to stay here for whatever reason. Doesn't matter to him. Their opinions mean nothing. Jacinthe's parents' thoughts won't matter any more than the rest - but this isn't about him. What exactly is it that she's so afraid of?]
[The next week passes without any sort of change in the status quo. No word from Philippe or Lebanne. No indication of anything else off in the city. No leads to hunt down or breakthroughs in the case from Emma. Absolutely nothing has changed.
It's infuriating. And even worse than that is Jacinthe, who has gone right back to acting like not a single thing has happened and there is not a single thought in that pretty little head of hers. She's been busy preparing for this next party - have to put on a good show to make up for the last one and entertain the elite, after all - and she's been giving him the same easy smiles and practiced lines he's come to expect.
Maybe this is what he thought he wanted that night when he told her to forget it, because he doesn't want to dive into his own issues. Maybe in some way he truly does want this, where they're nothing more than bodyguard and client, where things are simple and the lines clearly drawn. But it doesn't feel right, even when they do battle occasionally. It's just... frustrating.
But he keeps those thoughts to himself. He's here to do a job, not complain about whatever the hell their relationship is or isn't. But if he's looking more displeased than usual lately... well, maybe it can be ignored.
(Jacinthe had given him a check for a truly absurd amount for the "inconvenience" and he still hasn't cashed it because it feels so damn wrong to accept money for something that wasn't even her damn fault. But it's a lot of money and it'll do more good helping the Rust Syndicate than it will rotting in the coffers of her rich parents. It's moments like this that really make him wonder if he's cut out for this; you have to be cut-throat and willing to do some cruel shit to get ahead in this line of work, no matter how much you want to help the community. He knows this, he accepted this, and yet even something like this gives him pause...
Ugh. Philippe would've handled this better.)
The party comes all too quickly, and thought Corbeau's swapped to a different dark suit, he doesn't look much different than usual. He doesn't do much mingling because he doesn't really belong here - more than a few of the wealthy elite keep glancing over at him and whispering, not that he particularly cares about their gossip. He can't wait for this night to be over.
Unsurprisingly, there's live music and dances, but also Pokémon battles. Those are at least marginally interesting, and it's as they're watching one of these that Jacinthe joins him, bringing him a drink retrieved from one of the servants. It's champagne, which is garbage, but he'll take garbage over nothing and he takes a sip as Jacinthe is speaking about whatever nonsense in this party has clearly caught her interest so...
...
Why... is the room starting to spin— why can't he catch his breath— oh fuck.]
Jacinthe—
[Corbeau strikes like his own Arbok, dropping his own glass and moving to knock Jacinthe's out of her hand before she can take a moment to pause in speaking and take a drink. Of course he recognizes the symptoms of a poisoning - even if the Rust Syndicate didn't deal in them, he would've studied this shit after what happened to Lebanne. But he didn't have to, and never would have thought someone would be so (bold? stupid?) to do the same damn thing twice.
He loses his balance shortly thereafter, crashing to the floor hard as the world continues to spin.]
[Jacinthe is perfectly fine and normal after all of that.
How could she not be? Everything's so much easier now that she's forced herself to put that entire damn night out of her mind. She's already tipped the staff handsomely, and only a few of them left this time! Truthfully, everything's gone better than expected. So what if Corbeau's more annoyed with her than ever? Everything is as it should be, and her dear friends that aren't even really her friends even seem chipper with the compensation. Everything's splendid, nothing is wrong, and she even gets to keep battling Corbeau.
...To be honest, the only real reprieve this week is her occasional battles with Corbeau, because the party arrangements are stressful and deeply so. But Jacinthe manages it with the same smile that's expected of her, and everything is fine.
(Jacinthe does speak to her Father, though, from his hotel room in the city--Rusco's a little surprised, all be told, but she manages to get him alone and without Themida in the room to do her a favor. It takes some begging, genuine begging and pleading for him to get some obscure antidote from the Kanto region. He outright tells her that it may not work. But Jacinthe tells him that it's better to be safe than sorry, that she can't let something like this happen again.
Rusco smiles at his daughter, and the order comes in the next day. Overnight shipping on something like this isn't cheap, and she knows she's going to pay dearly for this in some manner--but it's for her peace of mind. For the guest's peace of mind.
...She really hopes she doesn't have to use it.)
The party is tonight, though, and Jacinthe is more than delighted by the turnout. All of her parent's business partners are happy as can be, and she's every bit the good host that she should be in this space. She's so lively, alive, and enjoying the festivities; the bands and dancers are all in perfect form tonight, and truthfully, Jacinthe has missed this. She's even dolled herself up for the occasion in a nice pink dress with plenty of frills and beautiful silk and pearls. She feels like a princess in this, and everything is as it should be. Her fantasy is alive and well, and even Corbeau's being agreeable tonight as she brings him a glass of Champagne, prattling on about the battlers.]
--And you know, I heard that his Alakazam has been a very capable combatant for almost a decade now, and that foreign species, a Drapion, was it? Truly a formidable foe, oh, and even a poison type! I cannot wait to get myself on the battle floor...
[And all of a sudden, the fantasy goes dark as she's about to raise the polite, rancid grape water to her lips--her glass is knocked out of her hand with a precise strike, sending it shattering to the floor, and...
(she sees Lebanne, struggling to breathe on the floor, gasping for breath. she sees Corbeau, and her mind has to be playing tricks on her, no, no, NO--)]
Corbeau, no—!
[The fantasy is crashing down, and she's in a bleak and horrifying reality that she's watching history repeat itself again. She's watching someone she (cares about) asked to keep her safe get hurt in her place, and her eyes are wide and unseeing even as party guests begin to panic, some even try to crowd around them, people gawking, rubbernecking, calling for a medic or the police or--
Jacinthe doesn't remember carrying Corbeau into her arms, hooking one beneath his legs and the other to support his back. She doesn't remember running, either--the heels she's wearing are rubbing against her ankles something fierce and giving her blisters as she runs, and she can hear the heels start to give, but there's a place away from the hustle and bustle, and--
Jacinthe calls Gardevoir and Sylveon both out, the Pokemon looking confused briefly. Gardevoir's the first to realize, though, horror washing over the devoted Pokemon--because even if he's not her trainer, she realizes what distress this has put her Mistress under, and she goes to her knees easily as Sylveon puts her feelers on Corbeau, Jacinthe struggling to breathe.]
Gardevoir--Gardevoir, please, use Heal Pulse. Please, until his condition is stable! Sylveon, use Heal Bell, as well! I...I...!
[Jacinthe reaches into her dress, and she pulls out the little vial she was truly hoping she wouldn't need to rely on. While Heal Pulse should be able to stabilize his heartbeat and keep him alive, and Heal Bell at least has a chance of easing the poison's effects...an antidote is what's truly needed to seal the deal.
Jacinthe will apologize for impropriety, maybe, in a moment.]
...Corbeau, please forgive me for this. I...I didn't think I'd have to...
[Open wide, buddy. The antidote doesn't have a good flavor to it at all, and Jacinthe doesn't know if it'll work. She didn't have this when dealing with Lebanne's poison, and frankly, she wouldn't be surprised if it doesn't work, but...
Just this once, she wants to believe.]
Please stay with me, Corbeau. Please. I can't lose you too...
[The world goes hazy. At least the poison had the decency to allow him a moment to protect Jacinthe, he thinks. Vaguely, he's aware of her yell, of the people gathering around, and of the sounds of panic and speech, but it all feels very, very far away. Almost as though it's happening all the way across the manor and not to himself.
Breathing quickly becomes a struggle, and for a little while he focuses on that. Then that focus slips away, and though he's vaguely aware he's being lifted (by whom?) and carried somewhere (where?) he can't really make sense of his surroundings. He can't see clearly. Did he lose his glasses somewhere along the way? He can't muster up the strength to raise his hands to check.
Something washes over him - a wave that feels soothing, comforting. He can't tell what it is, but it's calming... enough so that he could fall asleep here.
(Some part of his mind struggles to remember why he shouldn't fall asleep. There's a perfectly damn good reason why he shouldn't, but he doesn't remember what it is. Is this what it feels like to die? Is he dying? If he is, he's remarkably more calm about it than he thought he'd be. He just wishes he could've seen Scolipede and the others once more...)
Then something truly horrific (even worse than the poisoned champagne) is being forced down his throat and it's a struggle not to gag on it. Ugh, gross... Couldn't just let him sleep in peace, huh...
Slowly - very slowly, though it's sort of hard for him to tell - his breathing evens out into something normal where he's no longer struggling. The dulled look in his eyes begins to fade. It takes even longer for things to start coming back into focus, for the surroundings to start making sense again, for the world to feel like it's stopped spinning. It's going to take a lot of healing from her dear Pokémon and even longer for the antidote to truly start working - all told, it'll take an hour for him to start the recovery process. He's not exactly out of it entirely during it - his eyes are still open, and they will track movement - but he doesn't respond to anything properly or even manage anything verbally in that timeframe.
He won't be properly lucid until he's taken away to the hospital. Your Pokémon may be able to tell that the antidote's helping... or maybe you'll need the paramedics for that. Either way, he is recovering, it's just going to take awhile.]
[Jacinthe waits with bated breath. Sylveon's doing her best to keep track of Corbeau's feelings and heartbeat along with chiming that bell, and Gardevoir is doing everything in her power to keep Corbeau alive. She doesn't dare knock into his head to see if he's got brain function--too risky, even with the antidote, if it even works and isn't a placebo, but it takes time for his breathing to even out, and...
Gardevoir lets Jacinthe know.
Condition stabilizing. The antidote worked.
He's...he's gonna be okay.]
Oh-- [Jacinthe's voice feels so, so very small right now. It's as small and delicate as can be, as if she were much younger and still afforded the mercy of crying. But she doesn't care right now.] Oh, I'm so...I'm so relieved...
[Jacinthe is surprisingly gentle in the action, but she ends up saying fuck it to every bit of decorum and pulling Corbeau into a hug as she cries into his suit. He's alive. He's going to be okay, and she knows it with relative certainty now. The paramedics should be arriving any moment now, and maybe she won't have to wait weeks to see him in the hospital. Maybe she'll be able to see him again, maybe she can finally apologize for overstepping, and maybe, just maybe, she's actually managed to help someone for once in her miserable life.
Maybe this time, she's not the damsel in distress or the princess in the tower, but the hero who saves the knight meant to save her.
She cries for a solid few minutes against him--the fact that he can't register anything is nothing short of a boon, but it's when Jacinthe pokes her head up, eyes reddened from crying and patting that stupid, stupid hair of his that she hears a sharp noise, the slam of a door, and--
There's a man, a younger looking man in fancy attire. There's a bottle in his hand with a far too familiar label, and Jacinthe...
Jacinthe sees red.]
You. [Wait, Jacinthe, please don't! Gardevoir tries to reason, though she watches her lady let go of Corbeau and set him down while the man turns to her and starts to run.] You two, stay here and protect Corbeau! AND YOU, GET BACK HERE AND PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID TO HIM!
[The rest of her Poke Balls fall off of her dress when she runs after the man in question, him having already gotten one hell of a head start on her. But he runs, and she runs too like a persistence predator in heels with no regard for anything other than ensuring retribution on the man who hurt what's hers.
(Corbeau will likely come to at the hospital with those two Pokemon around him; Gardevoir and Sylveon both refused to leave until they were certain he was okay. It's Gardevoir that likely narcs on Jacinthe, for the fact that she fled--not even bringing a single Pokemon with her, and that she was ordered to stay behind and keep him stable.
Not even she knows where her trainer is, and she hates it. But for now...they're in his care.)]
[Jacinthe adapts surprisingly well to her new routine in the Rust Syndicate. Sure, it's not the same routine as normal and she doesn't have anyone to order around or anything to oversee; Rusco seems to be taking that well upon himself, and her inquiries to anything have been firmly shut out as she's been told to stay with them. It's...a surprising thing to hear from her Father, of all people, who's done everything in his power alongside her Mother to keep her controlled, but...maybe this is them acknowledging the SBC isn't safe, either. She should be happy; she should be grateful that they aren't going to interfere.
...There's a distinct pit in her stomach at the thought of something happening to them; even if they've treated her awfully, they're still her parents. She still loves them; she wishes she could be callous enough to discard them like they've wanted to do every part of her, but she still can't do that. It's something she keeps mostly to herself, because she knows deep down that they should be fine. They're the ones the SBC needs to please first and foremost; they won't make an enemy of her parents.
But Jacinthe has settled into a routine with the Rust Syndicate, and truly, she's enjoying herself. She's taken her role as someone for the members to challenge if they're getting a little too big for their britches, and truly, it's nice to actually put some of her battling acumen to the test against them; not a single one of them are the same, and they all learn something new in the heat of battle. Jacinthe gives pointers where she can, though she does her best to be reasonable about them; not everyone in the Rust Syndicate has the time to make their partners perfect, but Jacinthe is surprisingly capable of giving them some ideas to improve their team's strengths. She's genuinely delighted by the opportunity, and it's letting her put one of her best skills out there for them to utilize; how could she not be happy?
It's something she talks about when she goes up and visits Corbeau; when he's not otherwise occupied, they'll just talk for a while about anything and everything. There's really no doubt that Jacinthe feels comfortable around Corbeau, though she keeps a lot of that purely private; thankfully she's not only well aware of how this could paint them both, but the Rust Syndicate are very not prone to gossip when it's their boss, and the most she's been hearing about herself is that she's apparently surprisingly tolerable now.
She'll take it, really. It's actually kind of nice to just be herself, even if she can still be every bit as bright and plucky and determined as ever, she's more relaxed than she's ever allowed herself to be. It's why she's been wanting to get to know the people around her more, and why she's been so happy to be at least tolerated by most of the Syndicate. Philippe even battles her, now! ...When he isn't busy, of course, and his win ratio to hers is absolutely proving she needs to get better at dealing with steel types. She cannot keep getting subjected to whatever in the Distortion World he thinks he's doing with alcohol.
Case and point. Jacinthe will be coming up today with a glass in her hand of what appears to be some sort of concoction. Even from a distance, it smells like a pumpkin spice candle had a baby with something chocolate and...banana??? Oh no.]
Corbeau, am I interrupting anything important? Or might I come in for a spell?
[The transition has been surprisingly smooth. Jacinthe settles in easier than he assumed she would, and the Rust Syndicate accepts her presence with few complaints. He expected some of them to find her more off-putting or difficult to deal with, but it sounds like she's been on her best behavior here. Even Philippe hasn't heard any complaints to report, so all in all, things are going swimmingly. Corbeau isn't the sort to believe that they can coast like this forever - that other shoe's gonna drop eventually, after all - but it's nice for now.
Jacinthe sort of stands out like a sore thumb among the members of the Rust Syndicate, and honestly... he's not sure she'd ever really fit in among their ranks. The Rust Syndicate only has a few members who come from money. Most of them are like him, plucked off the streets and given a new goal in life. It's something that no amount of study and practice with etiquette will ever truly change, and Corbeau wonders if she finds it off-putting. Not that he really expects her to actually want to join them, but... well, she's stuck here for now. Maybe they'll get more information or catch the guy and she can return home.
(Is that really a good thing, though? Her parents have been strangely quiet aside from Rusco's name appearing on Corbeau's medical bills which makes him feel... wary, really. It's appreciated, certainly, and it's not like her parents can't afford it, but it makes him feel indebted to them, and he doesn't like feeling like that.)
But for now those thoughts are far from his mind. He's taken a break from the paperwork to oversee a Pokémon battle between Roserade and Arbok; the latter has the advantage with Fire Fang, but the former is swift and adept at putting distance between them with Shadow Ball. All three (and Scolipede, who has taken over the couch again) look up when Jacinthe enters.]
Not at all. [He holds out a hand to call a ceasefire to the battle. Both Pokémon look mildly disappointed, but approach to greet Jacinthe.] Just some training.
...It would seem Philippe has inflicted something hideous on you, though.
[Ah, a practice battle! Jacinthe's eyes can't help but sparkle when she sees his Pokemon clearly working so hard--if anything, she feels a little bad for interrupting them, but she's absolutely going to give them all some affection with her free hand. Hi, hello you beautiful perfect darlings--]
Oh, look at you all! Doing so well for your master; I'm certain that he's very proud of all of the hard work you all put in, yes he is!
[Babies. Perfect babies--but the scent of the Franken Drink hits her nose again when Corbeau mentions it, and Jacinthe proceeds to sigh.]
Pumpkin spice schnapps, chocolate liqueur, and banana cream rum. [it's as abominable as it sounds. jacinthe's only managed her way through 1/8th of it.] Zut alors...I even tried a new strategy today, Corbeau! And yet when faced with that Skarmory of his, my darlings couldn't hold a candle. The worst part is that I made a bet with him to finish it off, so this suffering is going to last me the entire night I'm sure...it certainly gives me motivation to redouble my efforts, however.
[She is going to take another sip of this horrible thing and grimace but she will be strong--!]
But that is enough about me! I trust your day is going well? [Jacinthe's head tilts, smiling.] Nothing too stressful, I hope.
[It's only a few days after that night with Corbeau that Jacinthe receives a call while out on the training field. At first, she can't believe her eyes; of course she recognizes Lebanne's number by heart, but after so long not hearing from her, Jacinthe had begun to assume the worst. She'd distracted herself and been distracted for so long only to wonder if this was some sick joke at her expense, but...
She ends up going up to Corbeau and Philippe after a nice, long cry and alerts them to the good news; Lebanne's condition has finally stabilized. She isn't going to be coming home yet, but it would seem that she had managed to be transferred to a facility in the Johto region, and that she could finally have visitors. Of course, Jacinthe absolutely made the arrangements as quick as she could with Corbeau's assistance; getting a first class flight for four people was no easy feat, but Corbeau had no intention of letting her go alone, even if he couldn't be away from the Syndicate for as long as she'd be gone for. Jacinthe was more than fine with him sending some of his grunts in his stead, and the night before she left, she had given Corbeau Gardevoir's Poke Ball.
Just in case; She had said, beaming brightly as if there were no problems at all. It wasn't in the same way that Jacinthe would be if she was masking her problems; she seemed genuinely determined to be optimistic about this, for once. Gardevoir knows much of medical needs, and the like. If our foul foe manages to bring harm to anyone here, she can assist them with ease. Though I truly pray that her support is simply moral, rather than physical!
Jacinthe went off early the next day, and she's been gone for a few days now; any status updates thus far have proven the trip is going well, and they should be back tonight if all goes well. Though any further status updates after the last one yesterday have seemingly gone to voicemail. Odd, that.
Odder still might be a call from Lida, a few hours prior. She's clearly nervous about having to call the Rust Syndicate, trying her best to keep herself together, but it seems like Team MZ hasn't come back from a mission. It seems that there were some Rogue Mega Evolutions a few days ago, and nobody else has managed to return from the mission; she's more than a little worried, and nobody in the city seems to know what's happened to them if asked. Concerning, to be sure.
But Corbeau's day is about to get a whole lot weirder, it seems.
Because up the elevator and into his office, or where ever he is comes Philippe--and a certain dandy old man, managing to keep something of a smile on his face despite how pale he may seem.]
Ah, Mr. Corbeau, dear boy! I had wondered if you might be in; the Syndicate's as lively as ever I see! [Cheerful as he is, he looks...very shaky on his feet, actually; if he's got Gardevoir out with him, she might be able to notice that something's off. (Though she's likely also putting herself between him and Rusco out of instinct.) Philippe looks defeated, though stern as ever as he keeps an eye on the old man.] I do apologize for the inconvenience, but there is a matter of utmost importance I need to discuss with you.
With haste, p-preferably.
[He's doing his best to keep his composure and stay steady on his feet, and he doesn't have any Pokemon out with him; he even holds out his hands, open palms, as a sign of his lack of desire for a fight.]
[Truthfully, some part of Corbeau had always feared the worst with regards to Lebanne. Some part of him always tries to prepare for the worst, especially because Jacinthe likely wouldn't be able to. Lebanne is important to her, and losing her would be devastating - but after so long without word, how could he expect anything else? Hearing that not only is she recovering, but she's able to finally receive visitors is a relief, because it's one he told himself not to expect. He helps Jacinthe make the arrangements, and privately laments that he can't go with her. Partially because of their circumstances - he can't exactly protect her if he isn't there, after all - and partially because he wants to support his friend in these trying times.
But she keeps her head up, and leaves Gardevoir with him, and it'll have to be good enough. The Pokémon remains out at all times; extra insurance, perhaps, or a reminder that Jacinthe isn't truly that far away despite the vast amount of distance between them.
The call from Lida about Team MZ worries him. It would seem that their foe has decided to make a move again, but targeting those kids... He's put damn near everything into searching for them, trying to figure out exactly what happened and where they could've gone, but so far he's turned up a grand total of nothing. It's a damn good thing Phillipe's handling things here, because Corbeau's been on the phone all damn day trying to track those kids down.
When the elevator chimes indicating an arrival, Corbeau's gaze flicks to Philippe. The man wordlessly gives him the answer he needs; a slight nod with a rather displeased look. A loss, then; not unexpected, given Rusco's strength. Seems like the man's not taking "no" for an answer today.
But before he can truly be wary about what exactly it is Rusco wants from him, the man's condition catches his eye. He seems... shaky. Not like his usual self, despite the front he's trying to present. He's alone as well, and even going so far as to make it clear he isn't here for a fight. This... isn't reading right on so many fronts, and immediately Corbeau can't help but be worried. Gardevoir is tense before him, and he can tell she's trying to figure out what's going on here.]
Of course. It's only the three of us, so go right ahead.
[Philippe isn't leaving unless it's absolutely necessary, and Corbeau doubts it'll be necessary. Better for the man to have his back just in case, even though Rusco likely could take them both easily.]
My thanks, dear boy! I promise I shall not keep you long.
[Rusco manages the arduous task of standing up straighter, before bowing politely, his pride preventing him from wanting to take the seats nearby; if he's asking Corbeau for assistance like this, the least he can do is show respect.]
Normally, I would wish to take care of such matters myself, or with my beloved's strength. But the situation has unfortunately proceeded to a point where that is no longer an option; not the least of which being that Themida would go completely scorched earth if she found out the extent of it, and we'd certainly lose him if she did. But to put it succinctly, I have reason to believe that I've pinpointed the exact miscreant responsible for Lumiose's woes, and I need your help to put the final nail in his purely metaphorical coffin...
Though, given how bold he's grown...well, I must say I'm quite ready to make it a physical one.
[The smile Rusco has on his face doesn't fade, though it doesn't quite reach the dark and intimidating look he wants it to after he ends up having to cough into his hand. Gardevoir's eyes begin to steadily widen as she puts more pieces together, relaying them to Corbeau after the usual mental knock.
Heartbeat erratic. Breathing unstable. He shouldn't even be standing right now, with how weak he is.
...Permission to administer aid?]
Ha...given how much sucking up that he did to both my wife and I, to turn around and do this...
I am leaving you all tonight to pursue my own wishes, and make a name for myself without staying under your thumb any longer. I want to fly freely through these beautiful skies and see what awaits me, in a place where I can truly find my own way.
I'm very sorry. I love you both so much, but I need to do this for myself.
Please do not follow me. And please choose anyone you see fit as your successor; I no longer have any intention of governing the SBC.
All my love, Jacinthe
[It's a quick, hastily scrawled note that she leaves back at the mansion for her staff to pass onto Father and Mother; Jacinthe doesn't even grab anything, truthfully. She has thankfully already set up her own bank account with the money she had earned from the Z-A Royale, and truthfully, she doesn't need anything else. She leaves behind all of the things she loves, her records, her barrels, her own Pokemon--all of them are left in the care of the SBC, and she answers no questions as she makes to the Train station to leave.
Part of her half expects Corbeau to find a way to stop her. She did have to spend a fair amount of time getting a proper Trainer ID set up, after all, since she's never had one of her own...but in the end, Jacinthe's destination is set. She picked it at random, truly, but Hoenn's vast differences in climate and geography had caught her interest for a while. It'll be the perfect place to start from scratch again, and that same day, she deactivates her Rotomphone so nobody can reach her anymore. Not her parents, not Lebanne who she's freed from her duties, and certainly not someone who couldn't be further from her mind right now; Corbeau.
This is for the best, she tells herself. This is what Jacinthe has to do for herself, and she finds herself smiling on the train reflected in the glass. She's finally, truly free.
She doesn't have to worry about how her Pokemon are going to take this, even after she's explained to them why she has to go.
(Badly is an understatement. Even if she didn't have a choice in their acquisition, she still loved them so much more than she's ever been capable of loving anything else. Gardevoir wouldn't even look at her, and Sylveon was crying.)
She doesn't have to worry about her parents, or anything that happens with them anymore.
(Themida ends up going into a coma, days after speaking to her husband and apologizing; Rusco has to make the difficult decision later down the line to end her pain and suffering. She manages the barest of apologies to the Rust Syndicate, in true Themida fashion, but Rusco manages to pass the words on after he's had some time to mourn. He never truly stops mourning his wife and the fractured relationship with his daughter, and he ends up going himself just a few years later.)
And she certainly doesn't have to worry about a man that she can barely even remember, nowadays! A kind man, certainly, but nobody important. Nothing's important now, and Jacinthe couldn't be happier!
(She thinks every night, about what could have happened that day in the sewers. She thinks about not acting at all, at maybe waiting until months down the line to have a conversation. She--)
It's been about five years now, give or take. Jacinthe has long chopped a fair portion of her hair off, settling it into a nice, cute little bob that's perfect for traveling about the Hoenn region. That's mostly what she does, now; she's long earned all of Hoenn's illustrious gym badges, but she has yet to take on the League in any meaningful capacity. Why, that's just too much media attention nowadays! She's much happier in a darker, magenta suit-dress that has become a staple of her wardrobe as she travels about the region, looking for the region's strongest to fight.
She's assembled an entirely new team, as well. Spearheaded by a sweet Altaria that Jacinthe met as a Swablu that decided to roost on her head, Jacinthe is easily one of Hoenn's strongest and most fickle trainers. Always the sort to lend a helping hand, though never one to stay for long or grow attached to anybody. If there's any information out there about her, it's certainly about how she's an utterly strange and delusional woman who treats her Pokemon well, but is also so deeply distant that it feels like trying to cross a bridge that's entirely too long over a chasm to try and talk to her. She's strong now; she's stronger than anyone. Stronger than her feelings, and stronger than anything the world can throw at her. Jacinthe has never been happier in her life, as long as she doesn't think about it too hard.
In fact, she's had plenty to do lately with these Team revival efforts...so many grunts to keep track of and beat down, so little time! It's today that she's over near Slateport, because she's heard of someone trying to intercept some parts for Captain Stern, and she certainly can't let that happen! Of course, tourists are also pretty popular this time of year, so even in the far more lived in parts of Slateport, there's so much hustle and bustle...
Jacinthe keeps a lookout, though, for anything weird and suspicious. It's just another nice, normal day.]
[Themida dies from her injuries. It isn't entirely unexpected, but that doesn't make it any easier. Just days before, he was thinking about how much he disliked her and the way she treated Jacinthe, and then suddenly she's passed and it feels weird to think of her in such a negative light anymore. Her apology - if it can even be called that - was passed on by Rusco, and the guy... well, he's definitely seen better days.
The only reason why Corbeau doesn't outright ask him to stay with the Rust Syndicate is Rusco's pride. He doesn't need to be pampered or babied by an organization that isn't his own, but he still manages to find time to swing by and visit in person more frequently than a man of his station and prestige probably should. He's lonely, Corbeau thinks. He's lonely, and with Themida and Jacinthe gone, he needs someone to talk to, and Corbeau doesn't mind helping out. He rather likes the guy, now that they've spent more time together.
...But he'd be lying if he said that the mood wasn't always a little dour considering the heavy and uncomfortable topic of Jacinthe that they both tend to talk around. Rusco seems to have an inkling that something happened between them, but he doesn't know what, and he doesn't ask. That suits Corbeau just fine.
He doesn't know what happened between them, truly. He didn't think it was that big of a deal. Sure, it was a bit startling at the time, but he'd been willing to write it off as... hell. He doesn't know. Maybe a flirtation? Sure. And he could just look away from that and not give it any more thought and maybe everything would go back to how it always was and that'd be just fine and dandy.
But Jacinthe left. The SBC is in shambles now, with new leadership taking over every few days it seems. Lebanne made a full recovery but has left Lumiose as well, though to where he can't say. And any and all attempts to reach Jacinthe simply aren't happening, because she's ditched her Rotomphone and apparently also her Pokémon.
(But they were given to her by her parents. She said so herself. Does she have new partners now, ones she's caught herself?)
It feels like the blink of an eye that the first year passes.
After all, there's always work to be done in Lumiose. The newest Wild Zone has people in more trouble than ever, and Team MZ is spreading themselves too thin. So the Rust Syndicate steps in wherever they can, and so Corbeau works, and so he doesn't have to think. He meets with Rusco. He trains his Pokémon. And he thinks about Jacinthe, and wonders how she's doing.
Team MZ grows up before his eyes, and soon, five years have passed. Corbeau doesn't look much different - older, sure, but his style of dress and haircut are exactly the same as they were five years ago. After all, why change what isn't broken? He crafted this appearance for the purposes of being an intimidating mob boss, and even if the Rust Syndicate isn't exactly that, that's the vibe he wants to give off to those who could pose problems.
Thankfully, the five years since have been relatively quiet. Rogue Mega Evolving Pokémon are rarer now, the Wild Zones have been more easily integrated into daily life in Lumiose, and things are going pretty damn well.
...Mostly. Rusco passed away during the time. In some strange way, he'd come to really like the guy. He left the Rust Syndicate far too much money, and even a chunk for Corbeau specifically that he's been sitting on for too damn long, because he can't bear to spend it on anything personal.
And then Philippe got a call from an overseas contact about a potential problem shipment that might be headed their way, and somehow this snowballed into where he's standing now, half a world away in Hoenn.
What had started as a business connection and conversation had turned more casual; Philippe and the guy had become friends, and in that friendship had started chatting about various people in their lives. The contact works in the casino, and at the heart of Hoenn, Mauville certainly has seen its fair share of odd people coming and going. One person in particular caught Philippe's interest, and he asked quite a bit about her - and then shared that information with Corbeau.
You're going to regret it if you don't go after her. Philippe had said, with that same blunt certainty that always cuts through Corbeau's doubts. Stop wasting time. You've got the money, you've got the time. If you don't strike now, you'll miss your chance.
So that's what he did. After sending triple what he usually does to the kids, anyway. Just to feel a little better about himself, or maybe to cover months in advance so he doesn't have to worry about it while he's away. Hell, he's not sure he knows.
Either way, he's here now. Slateport City is certainly an interesting place - definitely not like any ports in Kalos, that's for damn sure. Corbeau has only barely stepped off the boat and is still getting his bearings, looking around the city like a damn tourist. He'll have to figure out a way to track Jacinthe down, but she cuts a pretty memorable figure. He's sure someone can point him in the right direction. For now... For now he'll just take a moment to prepare himself.
The only difference to Corbeau's appearance is that he's older now; he's even wearing the same outfit as before. Though he does have a new Pokémon companion at his side... a female Meowstic, who keeps pace with him, but seems ever-alert to their surroundings.]
[It looks like the most recent boat on the docks has landed; Jacinthe pays it the barest of mind as she watches the grunts for the slightest movement. These neo Aqua brats are certainly not the brightest sort, but she catches them looking out toward the port, and her look ends up flicking over there as well. Tiny, rich woman binoculars end up spotting something that very nearly makes her drop them in her surprise.
He's older, sure. Even now, the man has aged gracefully, though he looks just the same as he did five years prior. Jacinthe isn't even sure if she's dreaming or not, if this is some kind of joke at her expense. Surely, it must be; he'd never have a Meowstic beside him, would he? Even if he and Gardevoir seemed to get along, he had always seemed so damn unnerved by her type, and...
Unfortunately, Jacinthe doesn't get time to contemplate that. The Neo Aqua grunts have started to make their move toward the museum after what seems to be a small scuffle outside of it with one of the recent arrivals--not Corbeau, thankfully, but Jacinthe knows better than to let these troglodytes fester.
Jacinthe gets up from the rooftop she'd been sitting on, throwing a Luxury Ball into the air as Altaria comes out.]
Altaria, my dear, we must make haste! These foul miscreants will not be allowed to threaten the peace of Slateport while I draw breath!
Come! Let us go and make merry together~
[She doesn't have to think about the man like this. She doesn't have to think about someone she had been so content to shove out of her mind for years, someone that rightfully rejected her because she let herself get caught up in feelings. Who needs them, anyway, when the adrenaline rush of a coming fight is so much better?
(And yet, she bellows loudly enough that he could certainly hear, if he truly is who she thinks he is. If he's somehow looking for her after all these years.
Let the man come and gawk.)
Jacinthe is quick to dart off toward the museum shortly after, pushing her way past more than a few complaining tourists as she makes a beeline toward glorious battle. She's definitely outnumbered, but is that not half the fun? She can truly see if they put up a fight like this, or if she'll just cleave them all down.
It's time for the fun to begin; are you following, Corbeau?]
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sranks2025-10-22 06:33 pm
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It's why Jacinthe is so puzzled and confused about what happened at one of her recent gatherings. Honestly, she's quite lucky that someone knocked what she was about to eat out of her hands and onto the floor--impolite party manners couldn't be excused, but Jacinthe had seen Lebanne's face going a color she'd never seen before, and...
(The ambulance hadn't told her anything, despite it being her darling retainer who had suffered the most grievously. She hasn't received any updates on her situation either, and...)
...That's not going to stop Jacinthe from trying to live the life she's always wanted, but it's certainly put her in quite the mood! No need to sour things for the public, of course; her staff worried after her (and her optimism that everything would be okay when it VERY CLEARLY was not), of course, but that was fine! Jacinthe could work with this, they just had to find who did it. Which is certainly easier said than done; Emma, who has gladly taken the case (read: has been paid to help) has told her that this will take some time, and though Jacinthe has provided her all of the pieces she can to put this puzzle together, it seems as if this case is one tough nut to crack! She's been advised to stay out of the public eye for a bit, which means no parties. Which means not seeing her friends and only seeing the staff members who have to keep delivering the news that Lebanne still hasn't come home, and...
No matter! Jacinthe also has access to everything she gave to Emma--she's not sure if it's purely distrust that motivated her to keep secondary copies, but it perplexed her deeply. Poison...surely she can't have been that rude of a host to Corbeau and his retainer, right? Not even at this party, but during her lovely tournament she let him battle to his heart's content, and while she would have loved to see that strength for herself, fate had very different plans.
If Jacinthe's being honest with herself, she doesn't like the idea of a dear friend having hurt her so deeply over something as simple as a poor tournament. And truthfully...she's been doing her best to ignore the anger building in her, the one that's trying to connect dots and sees red, because if someone has hurt what's hers? She's not letting that go easily. No, no, not at all.
The SBC themselves have been little help, her dear friends worried for themselves and seeking protections. And truthfully, Jacinthe had as well, but it seemed as if there was no proper way for her to do so, which confused her deeply. But she's stayed in Lumiose, trying to ignore everything in favor of continuing to live and keep the SBC from acting rashly in her honor.
What she doesn't expect is a summons from the Rust Syndicate. Or rather; Corbeau himself.
She hadn't been sure of what to make of the call; the servant (he's just like her, right? he employs those to help him.) seems nervous about calling her, telling her that she needs to come alone and come promptly to the headquarters. A saner, more rational person could see this as the trap that it was, but Jacinthe, oblivious as ever, sees this as an opportunity.
After all, if Corbeau did do this or had one of his servants do so, she could expose him easily and frankly get rid of his influence in the city. But, a distant part of her reminds--he's powerful as well. Sure, he wasn't born elite, but he's living proof that anyone can climb themselves up to the upper echelons with hard work and true determination. He even helps people around town, or so the rumors go!
It's a win either way. She gets closure, or she can pay him for protection; after all, he's only just below her in rank. He's strong, and she has plenty of money. Perhaps she can even offer a temporary truce to sweeten the deal, but Jacinthe is getting ahead of herself. Her friend wants to see her, and she intends to do just that.
Unfortunately for her (but fortunately for Corbeau thanks to the lack of prying eyes), she seems to have dressed up in a much less...socialite outfit for the day, her servants insisting on a disguise so she could make it in without drawing attention. Of course, the second she gets inside, she has to take the frankly ridiculous hat and hood hiding her hair off so she can actually let it breathe. Gah! She's never doing that again.
(She's also ignoring what feels like almost...chilling glances from the servants in Corbeau's employ. It's fine. This is just to be a discussion between friends.
...Why does it feel like she's just walked into a Pyroar's den, then? Her pulse spikes, and it takes all she can to stay in the elevator with two of the servants and wait until it opens.)
Once she's up there...she has to admit, this is a much classier look than she was expecting! Darker, of course, but Jacinthe saunters in with a bright (forced) smile on her face as she sees Corbeau at the end of his desk there.]
Ah, dear Corbeau! It has been far too long since we last spoke! How fares...
[...
This isn't right. Something's missing, no--someone, and in a perhaps surprisingly perceptive motion, the cheer disappears from her expression when she sees that a certain servant of Corbeau's isn't with him. That's...it sees her words stop for a good couple of seconds, before she tries to recover.
Her heart isn't in it, though, and feels like it's sinking.]
...How fares you, if I may?
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For as long as Corbeau has known him, the man has been unflinchingly predictable. He is a man who remains stalwart in his beliefs and thoughts regardless of what challenges he faces. He is a man of principle and honor, and one Corbeau has come to rely on more than he ever would have thought possible. He's also an exceptionally skilled trainer and one who can fend for himself; Corbeau had barely batted an eye when the man said he had a lead he was going to look into, because Philippe would - and should - have been fine.
And yet it's been days and there's been no contact. The entire Rust Syndicate is unsettled and uneasy, and it isn't just because their leader is. Corbeau may be in charge, but many of their older members once served Philippe. He is the backbone of the Rust Syndicate, and for him to vanish into thin air is infuriating. Who would dare mess with him? Who would dare mess with the Rust Syndicate?
Corbeau has eyes and ears throughout the city, and the most he's managed is tracing Philippe's steps. The man hadn't intentionally hid information from Corbeau, but it isn't as though he'd given him many details on just what he was looking into, only that it had to do with the recent troubles befalling members of the Z-A Royale. Jacinthe's latest tourney had ended abruptly due to one of these incidents, and from the reports he's received, it seems her retainer is still in the hospital recovering. Philippe's last known location was clearly following the trail left in the wake of this attack - and the Rust Syndicate is (rightfully) wary of the woman herself.
Jacinthe is nothing to scoff at. Oh, sure, he'd dismissed her as an airheaded, dumbass rich kid at first - hard not to, given her general demeanor and insistence on everything going her way - but that's not all she is. With money comes power, something Corbeau knows all too well. He's worked his way up this far and he knows the extent of his own reach throughout Lumiose, so clearly hers is even greater. Old money like that can reach places even he can't. And with Philippe having vanished entirely... well, might as well start with the woman herself and either rule out her involvement entirely or lead her into the Arbok's den.
Truthfully, he's surprised when she agrees to come and makes her way in willingly. Surely she can see that this is a trap set for her... but maybe without her retainer, she doesn't have any others jumping to defend her. Hardly his place to question his good fortune, so he'll leave it for now.
Golden eyes watch her unblinkingly as she glances away from him, to the spot where Philippe should be standing. It is empty now, of course, leaving just the two of them in the room. The other members of the Rust Syndicate wait outside, Pokémon at the ready should it turn to a fight. Not that he'd be in too much danger if it does; Poison does fare well against Fairies, after all.]
No sense in friendly banter; you want to know why I called you here.
[It isn't a question, he's certain of that. Corbeau pushes his glasses up, eyes narrowing as he continues.]
Philippe is missing. [Not information he'd like to hand over, but information that can be found if one were to look hard enough anyway.] Last time we had contact with him, he was looking into matters involving the recent attacks on members of the Z-A Royale. More specifically, your organization - the Society of Battle Connoisseurs.
[He lets that hang in the air for a long moment; let her put the pieces together and realize the danger she's in if she doesn't tell him what he wants to know.]
Tell me what you know about his disappearance.
[...Though given her reaction, he has a feeling he already knows the answer.]
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She doesn't like this. She doesn't like his tone, the unearthly cold that's letter her know just how much danger she's in if she doesn't answer properly. But she tries to run everything through her head that she knows of him, trying to rationalize it all as he spells everything out for her. Phillipe was looking into what happened with her society--in truth, she hadn't expected the Rust Syndicate to get involved at all, and she wouldn't have wanted to put her dear friends in danger like this! It's better to leave the business of police work to actual police, rather than those who think they know better about the order than those trained for it...
It's strange, how her face doesn't even know what to do in this situation, and it's likely obvious as the seconds tick by that she's...thrown, thrown by all of this. She finally manages to speak up after some time, but...]
I...had only contacted Detective Emma about the situation that happened. [Her tone is still friendly, but it seems to have chilled just the slightest bit in kind as she realizes how little control she has over this situation right now. And she hates not being in control, she stands with her back straightened and her hands clasped in front of her--closed off. Watching him like he watches her.] If someone else was looking into matters of the Society, then I had not been made aware of such things at all--nor have I even seen hide or hair of the man. I would think that my dear servants, they would have at least let me know of such a thing...
[The cheer is forced. So, so very forced, but it's all she has to fall back on. But she's being truthful, and though her heart aches for what she can only imagine is a heavy blow to himself--]
At minimum, I suppose I owe my servants a very strict talking to tonight. But...when did Phillipe start looking into these matters, my friend?
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He exhales, finally breaking that unblinking, Seviper-like stare.]
He told me he planned to stay out of your hair if he could help it. [Mostly because he didn't want to get roped into some more shenanigans.] But the guy's not exactly stealthy. Strange you wouldn't have heard anything.
[Information for information. Corbeau rests an elbow on the desk and then his chin on his hand.]
Four days ago is when he went missing; we lost contact with him shortly after his last report to me indicating that he was going to begin looking into matters with the SBC.
[Which is exactly why he wanted to speak with Jacinthe to begin with. Assuming she was responsible - or even those beneath her - wouldn't do when there's still a very real possibility that it could have been someone else who caught Philippe before he even managed finding anything of interest.]
You've heard that several others in the Z-A Royale have fallen ill, vanished, or otherwise become unable to compete recently, I assume.
[She can likely see where he's going with this already, but like he said, no sense in pleasantries right now.]
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Well, that's besides the point. The SBC building is every bit as pompous and opulent as one might expect, and she doubts Corbeau needs the grandest of tours--but Jacinthe has made sure that the SBC knows that Corbeau is an honored guest, and that she will not tolerate any slights against him. They are to be on their best behavior, with them and any other honored members of the Rust Syndicate who must come by.
Corbeau will notice it perhaps better than Jacinthe, that for some, her commentary goes in one ear and out the other. Sure, her sycophants hang on her every word, and there's...one, maybe two people who could almost be read as genuinely liking her. But there's eyerolling in the crowd that Jacinthe steamrolls past, or just doesn't seem to notice outright. It's almost worse if he keeps his ears to the ground, too; that they don't know what she could possibly be thinking, keeping this...rabble around. Most simply assume it a flight of whimsy and accept it. Others fully intend on going through so-called 'avenues' to try and get Jacinthe to reconsider. Others...
...Well, there is some talk from people in hushed tones, but they seem to be much more apt to stay out of Corbeau's hair, outright avoiding him. But he can definitely gather the impression that there are a fair amount of people who...really don't care what happens to her.
But that's besides the point; it's been a few days now at the SBC, and Jacinthe received a call this morning from Emma about a place that needed some extra hands to investigate. That Emma felt bad about asking such a thing of Jacinthe and Corbeau, knowing the danger that it could put them in during the day--but much like the force of nature she is, Jacinthe took upon the task of investigating the area near the sewers today, hoping to find some evidence of their potential perpetrator. Perhaps even find where they're hiding Phillipe.
Of course, there's not much luck today; they're nearing the end of the searchable areas in the sewers, and they seem to have come up empty handed so far...]
Well, it would seem that this is the last area we have not checked over...goodness, I do hope we are able to find something. [...Jacinthe, failing a spot check as ever, goes to check the one side of the room with nothing if Corbeau wants to check the other, which seems to have something that shines in the light--?] Corbeau, dear, are you having any luck?
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But the SBC... Well, they're a group of battle-obsessed rich kids who have their own ideals, purposes, and goals, and they don't all align with Jacinthe. In fact, he'd guess that most don't align with Jacinthe. There are those who seem to hang on her every word, but just as many he's caught rolling their eyes or looking at him with disdain, like the woman's words mean absolutely nothing to them. Not the same style of leadership as within the Rust Syndicate, surely, but she shouldn't be ignored so blatantly either.
Needless to say, he doesn't like it, and he can't help but feel a bit bad for her. Is she even aware of it...? Well, it's not like he's going to burst her bubble if she isn't. The important thing is that the SBC isn't entirely free of suspicion - some of them might have reason to want to do away with her if it means they could ascend to her position, after all. Maybe they had something to do with Philippe's disappearance as well. Hard to say right now, unfortunately.
And still hard to say even after Emma's pointed them in a direction - Corbeau appreciates any and all info, sure, but heading out to hit the ground themselves is a bit dangerous. Perhaps they should've brought some Rust Syndicate members along... but it's too late for regrets now. This seems to have been a bust, but it's as Jacinthe is speaking that he notices something. It could just be light reflecting off a Pokéball or a Potion or something, but you never know until you check, right? So off he goes!]
Not sure; give me a moment.
[While he's examining this, he keeps speaking:] We should head back soon. Don't want to be out too late, especially down here.
[Not that it'd be a problem for him, but Jacinthe stands out like a sore thumb, and even worse, she'd likely complain the entire time if the sun sets and they have to walk all the way back. With any luck, the battle zones won't be anywhere nearby, but better to return before dark just to be safe.]
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Very well, friend! I do believe I am about done over here; a shame that these walls could not provide us with the...what is the word, "smoking gun" that we need? I haven't the faintest of why they call it that...
[Please stop getting caught up in schemantics--
But Corbeau will be able to find one poison bottle! Or, well, a pretty large piece of it--it seems like someone did make an attempt at destroying the evidence, but there's still enough identifying features to prove where it's from. A large piece of a Koffing on the label, and some words in Kantonnian along the bottom...
Perhaps thankfully for Corbeau's piece of mind (though not by much), there's no blood on it, so it doesn't seem to have been used for anything else. But it's seen better days.]
But you are right. I truly wish Clefable could fly us back home with ease...or perhaps that I had caught a flying type when I was younger. My feet are going to be so sore once I get home! I'm going to need a foot bath on the double.
[But alright, she's done, she's going over to him--she'll even offer a hand up, if he needs it.]
Did you find something?
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Wouldn't call it the "smoking gun", but turns out we've got something out of our little trip down here.
[He holds the bag up for her to see, a smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth.]
Koffing on the label and foreign script; I'd guess this is our missing poison. Emma should be able to get some use outta this.
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Jacinthe worries after Corbeau and how he's taking this, but she's still not great at it. But they seem to have reached some sort of understanding, to help prevent their stress levels from skyrocketing.
Jacinthe battles Corbeau, both to take the out the stress of missing her old world of revelry that she cannot have anymore, and to help keep both of their skills sharp. It's stress relief, in a way. Their win to loss ratio has evened out, and each and every battle feels more freeing due to them changing their strategies up. She may still be every bit the annoying woman she'll always be, and he may still be a stubborn cad, but things almost feel amiable, now.
...Or well, at least they did, up until about two days ago when a fancy letter finally came into the mail. One of the maids brought it in with a stone-faced serious expression, and Jacinthe's whole expression seemed to pale and go blank the second she realized who it was from.
Her Mother and Father. Rusco and Themida--names Lumiose City had known for quite some time before, before their retirement. They only occasionally come back to the city in order to keep tabs on things with the SBC's primary branch, given their intent on expanding. They are the literal definition of shrewd business people, having made their business seemingly clandestine, though their reputation definitely precedes them even now.
The letter is read immediately, and Jacinthe doesn't even seem to hear any questions at first--of course they would be concerned about events going on in Lumiose, considering the fact that it's been costing the SBC connections that they could be making and has generally seemed to have made the town just that much more scared. And of course, (almost as an afterthought) their precious pumpkin's safety. So they've decided that they want to come on down to check in on things themselves.
It takes every fiber of Jacinthe's being to not tear the letter. She's shaking something fierce, and perhaps now more than ever, that deeply annoying mask is welded onto her face as the day of their arrival gets closer. She's insufferably cheerful and perfectly fine, or at least she says. She barely even notices the sharp voice that she takes with every detail of the cleaning of the house, making sure it's up to their standard. She barely notices just how much she's trying to isolate herself to prevent herself from exploding outright, and her boudoir's cleaning (read: finding the most obscure place in the house to hide anything that indicates she has an Interest in anything, because Arceus forbid--) takes her an entire day at least to make it look presentable and ladylike as her bedroom. Which. She literally only uses for sleeping, don't worry about it--
But point is, Jacinthe has been distant, and incredibly so, even refusing battles. And while she has done her best to avoid being unnecessarily cruel to the man who she's hired to protect her, she has made one order very clear; Corbeau needed to get away from this place before their arrival.
Her parents will be arriving in a few hours from now. The last minute preparations are a whirlwind, food in the kitchen being tested almost four times over, rearranging artworks and cleaning every single bit of dust that could possibly exist taking up that last portion of time while Jacinthe barks orders out to her staff.]
Darling, I told you not a speck of dust! Please, clean the cabinet again, chop chop! We cannot afford to be sloppy. [Jacinthe looks to another staff members work on the windows, her expression souring.] No streaks, how many times do I have to tell you?! Do it again, and do it properly this time! I will not have any mistakes!
[So. Where is Corbeau, in all of this?]
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But it seems that things aren't going well even in the SBC's little paradise either. It's been hard to figure out exactly what had Jacinthe so flustered in that letter, but eventually he overheard the servants talking about "the Madam and Master" and he can only assume that means Jacinthe's parents. She's old money, and that money must come from somewhere, so they're undoubtedly the ones behind Jacinthe's free-for-all spending. Corbeau's curious about them, sure, but that isn't the reason why he's been sticking around despite every single warning (verbal from Jacinthe and otherwise) telling him to get the hell out.
He's never seen Jacinthe this flustered. He didn't think anything could rile her like this. It isn't her fearsome temper, it's... fear, maybe. She starts refusing battles and focuses on making everything just so, and Corbeau feels even more like a Magikarp out of water in this hall. Seems like the deadline's fast approaching, because Jacinthe is treating the servants far worse than usual when he looks into the room.]
Are they really going to scour every inch of this place looking for dust?
[Hiya, Jacinthe, guess who didn't leave and is still here.]
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[It's in the midst of this yelling, grabbing a duster for herself and looking back so she can perfectionize another part of the house that Jacinthe's ears catch a familiar voice, and she practically whips her head around so fast that she gets whiplash.]
--Did I not tell you to make yourself scarce, Corbeau?
[There's no attempt at the pleasant politeness she always carries, not even her little darlings or dears or greetings; this is pure stress, and she's trying not to yell at him but--
Hang on, she's going to sashay past him to dust off something. It may have only had a tiny bit of dust on it, but she dusts it like there's no tomorrow.]
Of course I am; they will most assuredly check every inch of this house over! I need it to be perfect. It must be perfect for them, they'll accept no less.
And you need to leave, while there's still time. You can borrow Gardevoir's Poke Ball, even, if having her teleport you back to your headquarters is preferable, but I told you, you cannot be here for this.
Why have you not left yet?
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You hired me for a job, remember? I can't keep you safe if I'm not here to look after you.
[It shouldn't be necessary for him to stay around her 24/7, but frankly, he doesn't trust the entirety of the SBC. He hasn't told her as much yet, because drawing her attention to those who are rude just out of earshot or rolling their eyes behind her back is mostly just going to be pointless. If she doesn't already know, then it'll just upset her and she doesn't need that right now. If she's already aware of it, it's just a slap in the face. So no, better to keep those concerns to himself and keep an eye out on his own. But leaving her alone is not a good idea, regardless of who's paying a visit to the place.]
What, are you worried my presence here's going to upset them?
[He's seen the way some of the SBC look at him, and it's not entirely unfamiliar. For those who recognize who he is, he's scum because he runs the damn mafia. For those who don't, he's just some common thug allowed to stay here for whatever reason. Doesn't matter to him. Their opinions mean nothing. Jacinthe's parents' thoughts won't matter any more than the rest - but this isn't about him. What exactly is it that she's so afraid of?]
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It's infuriating. And even worse than that is Jacinthe, who has gone right back to acting like not a single thing has happened and there is not a single thought in that pretty little head of hers. She's been busy preparing for this next party - have to put on a good show to make up for the last one and entertain the elite, after all - and she's been giving him the same easy smiles and practiced lines he's come to expect.
Maybe this is what he thought he wanted that night when he told her to forget it, because he doesn't want to dive into his own issues. Maybe in some way he truly does want this, where they're nothing more than bodyguard and client, where things are simple and the lines clearly drawn. But it doesn't feel right, even when they do battle occasionally. It's just... frustrating.
But he keeps those thoughts to himself. He's here to do a job, not complain about whatever the hell their relationship is or isn't. But if he's looking more displeased than usual lately... well, maybe it can be ignored.
(Jacinthe had given him a check for a truly absurd amount for the "inconvenience" and he still hasn't cashed it because it feels so damn wrong to accept money for something that wasn't even her damn fault. But it's a lot of money and it'll do more good helping the Rust Syndicate than it will rotting in the coffers of her rich parents. It's moments like this that really make him wonder if he's cut out for this; you have to be cut-throat and willing to do some cruel shit to get ahead in this line of work, no matter how much you want to help the community. He knows this, he accepted this, and yet even something like this gives him pause...
Ugh. Philippe would've handled this better.)
The party comes all too quickly, and thought Corbeau's swapped to a different dark suit, he doesn't look much different than usual. He doesn't do much mingling because he doesn't really belong here - more than a few of the wealthy elite keep glancing over at him and whispering, not that he particularly cares about their gossip. He can't wait for this night to be over.
Unsurprisingly, there's live music and dances, but also Pokémon battles. Those are at least marginally interesting, and it's as they're watching one of these that Jacinthe joins him, bringing him a drink retrieved from one of the servants. It's champagne, which is garbage, but he'll take garbage over nothing and he takes a sip as Jacinthe is speaking about whatever nonsense in this party has clearly caught her interest so...
...
Why... is the room starting to spin— why can't he catch his breath— oh fuck.]
Jacinthe—
[Corbeau strikes like his own Arbok, dropping his own glass and moving to knock Jacinthe's out of her hand before she can take a moment to pause in speaking and take a drink. Of course he recognizes the symptoms of a poisoning - even if the Rust Syndicate didn't deal in them, he would've studied this shit after what happened to Lebanne. But he didn't have to, and never would have thought someone would be so (bold? stupid?) to do the same damn thing twice.
He loses his balance shortly thereafter, crashing to the floor hard as the world continues to spin.]
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How could she not be? Everything's so much easier now that she's forced herself to put that entire damn night out of her mind. She's already tipped the staff handsomely, and only a few of them left this time! Truthfully, everything's gone better than expected. So what if Corbeau's more annoyed with her than ever? Everything is as it should be, and her dear friends that aren't even really her friends even seem chipper with the compensation. Everything's splendid, nothing is wrong, and she even gets to keep battling Corbeau.
...To be honest, the only real reprieve this week is her occasional battles with Corbeau, because the party arrangements are stressful and deeply so. But Jacinthe manages it with the same smile that's expected of her, and everything is fine.
(Jacinthe does speak to her Father, though, from his hotel room in the city--Rusco's a little surprised, all be told, but she manages to get him alone and without Themida in the room to do her a favor. It takes some begging, genuine begging and pleading for him to get some obscure antidote from the Kanto region. He outright tells her that it may not work. But Jacinthe tells him that it's better to be safe than sorry, that she can't let something like this happen again.
Rusco smiles at his daughter, and the order comes in the next day. Overnight shipping on something like this isn't cheap, and she knows she's going to pay dearly for this in some manner--but it's for her peace of mind. For the guest's peace of mind.
...She really hopes she doesn't have to use it.)
The party is tonight, though, and Jacinthe is more than delighted by the turnout. All of her parent's business partners are happy as can be, and she's every bit the good host that she should be in this space. She's so lively, alive, and enjoying the festivities; the bands and dancers are all in perfect form tonight, and truthfully, Jacinthe has missed this. She's even dolled herself up for the occasion in a nice pink dress with plenty of frills and beautiful silk and pearls. She feels like a princess in this, and everything is as it should be. Her fantasy is alive and well, and even Corbeau's being agreeable tonight as she brings him a glass of Champagne, prattling on about the battlers.]
--And you know, I heard that his Alakazam has been a very capable combatant for almost a decade now, and that foreign species, a Drapion, was it? Truly a formidable foe, oh, and even a poison type! I cannot wait to get myself on the battle floor...
[And all of a sudden, the fantasy goes dark as she's about to raise the polite, rancid grape water to her lips--her glass is knocked out of her hand with a precise strike, sending it shattering to the floor, and...
(she sees Lebanne, struggling to breathe on the floor, gasping for breath. she sees Corbeau, and her mind has to be playing tricks on her, no, no, NO--)]
Corbeau, no—!
[The fantasy is crashing down, and she's in a bleak and horrifying reality that she's watching history repeat itself again. She's watching someone she (cares about) asked to keep her safe get hurt in her place, and her eyes are wide and unseeing even as party guests begin to panic, some even try to crowd around them, people gawking, rubbernecking, calling for a medic or the police or--
Jacinthe doesn't remember carrying Corbeau into her arms, hooking one beneath his legs and the other to support his back. She doesn't remember running, either--the heels she's wearing are rubbing against her ankles something fierce and giving her blisters as she runs, and she can hear the heels start to give, but there's a place away from the hustle and bustle, and--
Jacinthe calls Gardevoir and Sylveon both out, the Pokemon looking confused briefly. Gardevoir's the first to realize, though, horror washing over the devoted Pokemon--because even if he's not her trainer, she realizes what distress this has put her Mistress under, and she goes to her knees easily as Sylveon puts her feelers on Corbeau, Jacinthe struggling to breathe.]
Gardevoir--Gardevoir, please, use Heal Pulse. Please, until his condition is stable! Sylveon, use Heal Bell, as well! I...I...!
[Jacinthe reaches into her dress, and she pulls out the little vial she was truly hoping she wouldn't need to rely on. While Heal Pulse should be able to stabilize his heartbeat and keep him alive, and Heal Bell at least has a chance of easing the poison's effects...an antidote is what's truly needed to seal the deal.
Jacinthe will apologize for impropriety, maybe, in a moment.]
...Corbeau, please forgive me for this. I...I didn't think I'd have to...
[Open wide, buddy. The antidote doesn't have a good flavor to it at all, and Jacinthe doesn't know if it'll work. She didn't have this when dealing with Lebanne's poison, and frankly, she wouldn't be surprised if it doesn't work, but...
Just this once, she wants to believe.]
Please stay with me, Corbeau. Please. I can't lose you too...
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Breathing quickly becomes a struggle, and for a little while he focuses on that. Then that focus slips away, and though he's vaguely aware he's being lifted (by whom?) and carried somewhere (where?) he can't really make sense of his surroundings. He can't see clearly. Did he lose his glasses somewhere along the way? He can't muster up the strength to raise his hands to check.
Something washes over him - a wave that feels soothing, comforting. He can't tell what it is, but it's calming... enough so that he could fall asleep here.
(Some part of his mind struggles to remember why he shouldn't fall asleep. There's a perfectly damn good reason why he shouldn't, but he doesn't remember what it is. Is this what it feels like to die? Is he dying? If he is, he's remarkably more calm about it than he thought he'd be. He just wishes he could've seen Scolipede and the others once more...)
Then something truly horrific (even worse than the poisoned champagne) is being forced down his throat and it's a struggle not to gag on it. Ugh, gross... Couldn't just let him sleep in peace, huh...
Slowly - very slowly, though it's sort of hard for him to tell - his breathing evens out into something normal where he's no longer struggling. The dulled look in his eyes begins to fade. It takes even longer for things to start coming back into focus, for the surroundings to start making sense again, for the world to feel like it's stopped spinning. It's going to take a lot of healing from her dear Pokémon and even longer for the antidote to truly start working - all told, it'll take an hour for him to start the recovery process. He's not exactly out of it entirely during it - his eyes are still open, and they will track movement - but he doesn't respond to anything properly or even manage anything verbally in that timeframe.
He won't be properly lucid until he's taken away to the hospital. Your Pokémon may be able to tell that the antidote's helping... or maybe you'll need the paramedics for that. Either way, he is recovering, it's just going to take awhile.]
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Gardevoir lets Jacinthe know.
Condition stabilizing. The antidote worked.
He's...he's gonna be okay.]
Oh-- [Jacinthe's voice feels so, so very small right now. It's as small and delicate as can be, as if she were much younger and still afforded the mercy of crying. But she doesn't care right now.] Oh, I'm so...I'm so relieved...
[Jacinthe is surprisingly gentle in the action, but she ends up saying fuck it to every bit of decorum and pulling Corbeau into a hug as she cries into his suit. He's alive. He's going to be okay, and she knows it with relative certainty now. The paramedics should be arriving any moment now, and maybe she won't have to wait weeks to see him in the hospital. Maybe she'll be able to see him again, maybe she can finally apologize for overstepping, and maybe, just maybe, she's actually managed to help someone for once in her miserable life.
Maybe this time, she's not the damsel in distress or the princess in the tower, but the hero who saves the knight meant to save her.
She cries for a solid few minutes against him--the fact that he can't register anything is nothing short of a boon, but it's when Jacinthe pokes her head up, eyes reddened from crying and patting that stupid, stupid hair of his that she hears a sharp noise, the slam of a door, and--
There's a man, a younger looking man in fancy attire. There's a bottle in his hand with a far too familiar label, and Jacinthe...
Jacinthe sees red.]
You. [Wait, Jacinthe, please don't! Gardevoir tries to reason, though she watches her lady let go of Corbeau and set him down while the man turns to her and starts to run.] You two, stay here and protect Corbeau! AND YOU, GET BACK HERE AND PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID TO HIM!
[The rest of her Poke Balls fall off of her dress when she runs after the man in question, him having already gotten one hell of a head start on her. But he runs, and she runs too like a persistence predator in heels with no regard for anything other than ensuring retribution on the man who hurt what's hers.
(Corbeau will likely come to at the hospital with those two Pokemon around him; Gardevoir and Sylveon both refused to leave until they were certain he was okay. It's Gardevoir that likely narcs on Jacinthe, for the fact that she fled--not even bringing a single Pokemon with her, and that she was ordered to stay behind and keep him stable.
Not even she knows where her trainer is, and she hates it. But for now...they're in his care.)]
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...There's a distinct pit in her stomach at the thought of something happening to them; even if they've treated her awfully, they're still her parents. She still loves them; she wishes she could be callous enough to discard them like they've wanted to do every part of her, but she still can't do that. It's something she keeps mostly to herself, because she knows deep down that they should be fine. They're the ones the SBC needs to please first and foremost; they won't make an enemy of her parents.
But Jacinthe has settled into a routine with the Rust Syndicate, and truly, she's enjoying herself. She's taken her role as someone for the members to challenge if they're getting a little too big for their britches, and truly, it's nice to actually put some of her battling acumen to the test against them; not a single one of them are the same, and they all learn something new in the heat of battle. Jacinthe gives pointers where she can, though she does her best to be reasonable about them; not everyone in the Rust Syndicate has the time to make their partners perfect, but Jacinthe is surprisingly capable of giving them some ideas to improve their team's strengths. She's genuinely delighted by the opportunity, and it's letting her put one of her best skills out there for them to utilize; how could she not be happy?
It's something she talks about when she goes up and visits Corbeau; when he's not otherwise occupied, they'll just talk for a while about anything and everything. There's really no doubt that Jacinthe feels comfortable around Corbeau, though she keeps a lot of that purely private; thankfully she's not only well aware of how this could paint them both, but the Rust Syndicate are very not prone to gossip when it's their boss, and the most she's been hearing about herself is that she's apparently surprisingly tolerable now.
She'll take it, really. It's actually kind of nice to just be herself, even if she can still be every bit as bright and plucky and determined as ever, she's more relaxed than she's ever allowed herself to be. It's why she's been wanting to get to know the people around her more, and why she's been so happy to be at least tolerated by most of the Syndicate. Philippe even battles her, now! ...When he isn't busy, of course, and his win ratio to hers is absolutely proving she needs to get better at dealing with steel types. She cannot keep getting subjected to whatever in the Distortion World he thinks he's doing with alcohol.
Case and point. Jacinthe will be coming up today with a glass in her hand of what appears to be some sort of concoction. Even from a distance, it smells like a pumpkin spice candle had a baby with something chocolate and...banana??? Oh no.]
Corbeau, am I interrupting anything important? Or might I come in for a spell?
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Jacinthe sort of stands out like a sore thumb among the members of the Rust Syndicate, and honestly... he's not sure she'd ever really fit in among their ranks. The Rust Syndicate only has a few members who come from money. Most of them are like him, plucked off the streets and given a new goal in life. It's something that no amount of study and practice with etiquette will ever truly change, and Corbeau wonders if she finds it off-putting. Not that he really expects her to actually want to join them, but... well, she's stuck here for now. Maybe they'll get more information or catch the guy and she can return home.
(Is that really a good thing, though? Her parents have been strangely quiet aside from Rusco's name appearing on Corbeau's medical bills which makes him feel... wary, really. It's appreciated, certainly, and it's not like her parents can't afford it, but it makes him feel indebted to them, and he doesn't like feeling like that.)
But for now those thoughts are far from his mind. He's taken a break from the paperwork to oversee a Pokémon battle between Roserade and Arbok; the latter has the advantage with Fire Fang, but the former is swift and adept at putting distance between them with Shadow Ball. All three (and Scolipede, who has taken over the couch again) look up when Jacinthe enters.]
Not at all. [He holds out a hand to call a ceasefire to the battle. Both Pokémon look mildly disappointed, but approach to greet Jacinthe.] Just some training.
...It would seem Philippe has inflicted something hideous on you, though.
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Oh, look at you all! Doing so well for your master; I'm certain that he's very proud of all of the hard work you all put in, yes he is!
[Babies. Perfect babies--but the scent of the Franken Drink hits her nose again when Corbeau mentions it, and Jacinthe proceeds to sigh.]
Pumpkin spice schnapps, chocolate liqueur, and banana cream rum. [it's as abominable as it sounds. jacinthe's only managed her way through 1/8th of it.] Zut alors...I even tried a new strategy today, Corbeau! And yet when faced with that Skarmory of his, my darlings couldn't hold a candle. The worst part is that I made a bet with him to finish it off, so this suffering is going to last me the entire night I'm sure...it certainly gives me motivation to redouble my efforts, however.
[She is going to take another sip of this horrible thing and grimace but she will be strong--!]
But that is enough about me! I trust your day is going well? [Jacinthe's head tilts, smiling.] Nothing too stressful, I hope.
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She ends up going up to Corbeau and Philippe after a nice, long cry and alerts them to the good news; Lebanne's condition has finally stabilized. She isn't going to be coming home yet, but it would seem that she had managed to be transferred to a facility in the Johto region, and that she could finally have visitors. Of course, Jacinthe absolutely made the arrangements as quick as she could with Corbeau's assistance; getting a first class flight for four people was no easy feat, but Corbeau had no intention of letting her go alone, even if he couldn't be away from the Syndicate for as long as she'd be gone for. Jacinthe was more than fine with him sending some of his grunts in his stead, and the night before she left, she had given Corbeau Gardevoir's Poke Ball.
Just in case; She had said, beaming brightly as if there were no problems at all. It wasn't in the same way that Jacinthe would be if she was masking her problems; she seemed genuinely determined to be optimistic about this, for once. Gardevoir knows much of medical needs, and the like. If our foul foe manages to bring harm to anyone here, she can assist them with ease. Though I truly pray that her support is simply moral, rather than physical!
Jacinthe went off early the next day, and she's been gone for a few days now; any status updates thus far have proven the trip is going well, and they should be back tonight if all goes well. Though any further status updates after the last one yesterday have seemingly gone to voicemail. Odd, that.
Odder still might be a call from Lida, a few hours prior. She's clearly nervous about having to call the Rust Syndicate, trying her best to keep herself together, but it seems like Team MZ hasn't come back from a mission. It seems that there were some Rogue Mega Evolutions a few days ago, and nobody else has managed to return from the mission; she's more than a little worried, and nobody in the city seems to know what's happened to them if asked. Concerning, to be sure.
But Corbeau's day is about to get a whole lot weirder, it seems.
Because up the elevator and into his office, or where ever he is comes Philippe--and a certain dandy old man, managing to keep something of a smile on his face despite how pale he may seem.]
Ah, Mr. Corbeau, dear boy! I had wondered if you might be in; the Syndicate's as lively as ever I see! [Cheerful as he is, he looks...very shaky on his feet, actually; if he's got Gardevoir out with him, she might be able to notice that something's off. (Though she's likely also putting herself between him and Rusco out of instinct.) Philippe looks defeated, though stern as ever as he keeps an eye on the old man.] I do apologize for the inconvenience, but there is a matter of utmost importance I need to discuss with you.
With haste, p-preferably.
[He's doing his best to keep his composure and stay steady on his feet, and he doesn't have any Pokemon out with him; he even holds out his hands, open palms, as a sign of his lack of desire for a fight.]
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But she keeps her head up, and leaves Gardevoir with him, and it'll have to be good enough. The Pokémon remains out at all times; extra insurance, perhaps, or a reminder that Jacinthe isn't truly that far away despite the vast amount of distance between them.
The call from Lida about Team MZ worries him. It would seem that their foe has decided to make a move again, but targeting those kids... He's put damn near everything into searching for them, trying to figure out exactly what happened and where they could've gone, but so far he's turned up a grand total of nothing. It's a damn good thing Phillipe's handling things here, because Corbeau's been on the phone all damn day trying to track those kids down.
When the elevator chimes indicating an arrival, Corbeau's gaze flicks to Philippe. The man wordlessly gives him the answer he needs; a slight nod with a rather displeased look. A loss, then; not unexpected, given Rusco's strength. Seems like the man's not taking "no" for an answer today.
But before he can truly be wary about what exactly it is Rusco wants from him, the man's condition catches his eye. He seems... shaky. Not like his usual self, despite the front he's trying to present. He's alone as well, and even going so far as to make it clear he isn't here for a fight. This... isn't reading right on so many fronts, and immediately Corbeau can't help but be worried. Gardevoir is tense before him, and he can tell she's trying to figure out what's going on here.]
Of course. It's only the three of us, so go right ahead.
[Philippe isn't leaving unless it's absolutely necessary, and Corbeau doubts it'll be necessary. Better for the man to have his back just in case, even though Rusco likely could take them both easily.]
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[Rusco manages the arduous task of standing up straighter, before bowing politely, his pride preventing him from wanting to take the seats nearby; if he's asking Corbeau for assistance like this, the least he can do is show respect.]
Normally, I would wish to take care of such matters myself, or with my beloved's strength. But the situation has unfortunately proceeded to a point where that is no longer an option; not the least of which being that Themida would go completely scorched earth if she found out the extent of it, and we'd certainly lose him if she did. But to put it succinctly, I have reason to believe that I've pinpointed the exact miscreant responsible for Lumiose's woes, and I need your help to put the final nail in his purely metaphorical coffin...
Though, given how bold he's grown...well, I must say I'm quite ready to make it a physical one.
[The smile Rusco has on his face doesn't fade, though it doesn't quite reach the dark and intimidating look he wants it to after he ends up having to cough into his hand. Gardevoir's eyes begin to steadily widen as she puts more pieces together, relaying them to Corbeau after the usual mental knock.
Heartbeat erratic. Breathing unstable. He shouldn't even be standing right now, with how weak he is.
...Permission to administer aid?]
Ha...given how much sucking up that he did to both my wife and I, to turn around and do this...
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I am leaving you all tonight to pursue my own wishes, and make a name for myself without staying under your thumb any longer. I want to fly freely through these beautiful skies and see what awaits me, in a place where I can truly find my own way.
I'm very sorry. I love you both so much, but I need to do this for myself.
Please do not follow me. And please choose anyone you see fit as your successor; I no longer have any intention of governing the SBC.
All my love,
Jacinthe
[It's a quick, hastily scrawled note that she leaves back at the mansion for her staff to pass onto Father and Mother; Jacinthe doesn't even grab anything, truthfully. She has thankfully already set up her own bank account with the money she had earned from the Z-A Royale, and truthfully, she doesn't need anything else. She leaves behind all of the things she loves, her records, her barrels, her own Pokemon--all of them are left in the care of the SBC, and she answers no questions as she makes to the Train station to leave.
Part of her half expects Corbeau to find a way to stop her. She did have to spend a fair amount of time getting a proper Trainer ID set up, after all, since she's never had one of her own...but in the end, Jacinthe's destination is set. She picked it at random, truly, but Hoenn's vast differences in climate and geography had caught her interest for a while. It'll be the perfect place to start from scratch again, and that same day, she deactivates her Rotomphone so nobody can reach her anymore. Not her parents, not Lebanne who she's freed from her duties, and certainly not someone who couldn't be further from her mind right now; Corbeau.
This is for the best, she tells herself. This is what Jacinthe has to do for herself, and she finds herself smiling on the train reflected in the glass. She's finally, truly free.
She doesn't have to worry about how her Pokemon are going to take this, even after she's explained to them why she has to go.
(Badly is an understatement. Even if she didn't have a choice in their acquisition, she still loved them so much more than she's ever been capable of loving anything else. Gardevoir wouldn't even look at her, and Sylveon was crying.)
She doesn't have to worry about her parents, or anything that happens with them anymore.
(Themida ends up going into a coma, days after speaking to her husband and apologizing; Rusco has to make the difficult decision later down the line to end her pain and suffering. She manages the barest of apologies to the Rust Syndicate, in true Themida fashion, but Rusco manages to pass the words on after he's had some time to mourn. He never truly stops mourning his wife and the fractured relationship with his daughter, and he ends up going himself just a few years later.)
And she certainly doesn't have to worry about a man that she can barely even remember, nowadays! A kind man, certainly, but nobody important. Nothing's important now, and Jacinthe couldn't be happier!
(She thinks every night, about what could have happened that day in the sewers. She thinks about not acting at all, at maybe waiting until months down the line to have a conversation. She--)
It's been about five years now, give or take. Jacinthe has long chopped a fair portion of her hair off, settling it into a nice, cute little bob that's perfect for traveling about the Hoenn region. That's mostly what she does, now; she's long earned all of Hoenn's illustrious gym badges, but she has yet to take on the League in any meaningful capacity. Why, that's just too much media attention nowadays! She's much happier in a darker, magenta suit-dress that has become a staple of her wardrobe as she travels about the region, looking for the region's strongest to fight.
She's assembled an entirely new team, as well. Spearheaded by a sweet Altaria that Jacinthe met as a Swablu that decided to roost on her head, Jacinthe is easily one of Hoenn's strongest and most fickle trainers. Always the sort to lend a helping hand, though never one to stay for long or grow attached to anybody. If there's any information out there about her, it's certainly about how she's an utterly strange and delusional woman who treats her Pokemon well, but is also so deeply distant that it feels like trying to cross a bridge that's entirely too long over a chasm to try and talk to her. She's strong now; she's stronger than anyone. Stronger than her feelings, and stronger than anything the world can throw at her. Jacinthe has never been happier in her life, as long as she doesn't think about it too hard.
In fact, she's had plenty to do lately with these Team revival efforts...so many grunts to keep track of and beat down, so little time! It's today that she's over near Slateport, because she's heard of someone trying to intercept some parts for Captain Stern, and she certainly can't let that happen! Of course, tourists are also pretty popular this time of year, so even in the far more lived in parts of Slateport, there's so much hustle and bustle...
Jacinthe keeps a lookout, though, for anything weird and suspicious. It's just another nice, normal day.]
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The only reason why Corbeau doesn't outright ask him to stay with the Rust Syndicate is Rusco's pride. He doesn't need to be pampered or babied by an organization that isn't his own, but he still manages to find time to swing by and visit in person more frequently than a man of his station and prestige probably should. He's lonely, Corbeau thinks. He's lonely, and with Themida and Jacinthe gone, he needs someone to talk to, and Corbeau doesn't mind helping out. He rather likes the guy, now that they've spent more time together.
...But he'd be lying if he said that the mood wasn't always a little dour considering the heavy and uncomfortable topic of Jacinthe that they both tend to talk around. Rusco seems to have an inkling that something happened between them, but he doesn't know what, and he doesn't ask. That suits Corbeau just fine.
He doesn't know what happened between them, truly. He didn't think it was that big of a deal. Sure, it was a bit startling at the time, but he'd been willing to write it off as... hell. He doesn't know. Maybe a flirtation? Sure. And he could just look away from that and not give it any more thought and maybe everything would go back to how it always was and that'd be just fine and dandy.
But Jacinthe left. The SBC is in shambles now, with new leadership taking over every few days it seems. Lebanne made a full recovery but has left Lumiose as well, though to where he can't say. And any and all attempts to reach Jacinthe simply aren't happening, because she's ditched her Rotomphone and apparently also her Pokémon.
(But they were given to her by her parents. She said so herself. Does she have new partners now, ones she's caught herself?)
It feels like the blink of an eye that the first year passes.
After all, there's always work to be done in Lumiose. The newest Wild Zone has people in more trouble than ever, and Team MZ is spreading themselves too thin. So the Rust Syndicate steps in wherever they can, and so Corbeau works, and so he doesn't have to think. He meets with Rusco. He trains his Pokémon. And he thinks about Jacinthe, and wonders how she's doing.
Team MZ grows up before his eyes, and soon, five years have passed. Corbeau doesn't look much different - older, sure, but his style of dress and haircut are exactly the same as they were five years ago. After all, why change what isn't broken? He crafted this appearance for the purposes of being an intimidating mob boss, and even if the Rust Syndicate isn't exactly that, that's the vibe he wants to give off to those who could pose problems.
Thankfully, the five years since have been relatively quiet. Rogue Mega Evolving Pokémon are rarer now, the Wild Zones have been more easily integrated into daily life in Lumiose, and things are going pretty damn well.
...Mostly. Rusco passed away during the time. In some strange way, he'd come to really like the guy. He left the Rust Syndicate far too much money, and even a chunk for Corbeau specifically that he's been sitting on for too damn long, because he can't bear to spend it on anything personal.
And then Philippe got a call from an overseas contact about a potential problem shipment that might be headed their way, and somehow this snowballed into where he's standing now, half a world away in Hoenn.
What had started as a business connection and conversation had turned more casual; Philippe and the guy had become friends, and in that friendship had started chatting about various people in their lives. The contact works in the casino, and at the heart of Hoenn, Mauville certainly has seen its fair share of odd people coming and going. One person in particular caught Philippe's interest, and he asked quite a bit about her - and then shared that information with Corbeau.
You're going to regret it if you don't go after her. Philippe had said, with that same blunt certainty that always cuts through Corbeau's doubts. Stop wasting time. You've got the money, you've got the time. If you don't strike now, you'll miss your chance.
So that's what he did. After sending triple what he usually does to the kids, anyway. Just to feel a little better about himself, or maybe to cover months in advance so he doesn't have to worry about it while he's away. Hell, he's not sure he knows.
Either way, he's here now. Slateport City is certainly an interesting place - definitely not like any ports in Kalos, that's for damn sure. Corbeau has only barely stepped off the boat and is still getting his bearings, looking around the city like a damn tourist. He'll have to figure out a way to track Jacinthe down, but she cuts a pretty memorable figure. He's sure someone can point him in the right direction. For now... For now he'll just take a moment to prepare himself.
The only difference to Corbeau's appearance is that he's older now; he's even wearing the same outfit as before. Though he does have a new Pokémon companion at his side... a female Meowstic, who keeps pace with him, but seems ever-alert to their surroundings.]
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He's older, sure. Even now, the man has aged gracefully, though he looks just the same as he did five years prior. Jacinthe isn't even sure if she's dreaming or not, if this is some kind of joke at her expense. Surely, it must be; he'd never have a Meowstic beside him, would he? Even if he and Gardevoir seemed to get along, he had always seemed so damn unnerved by her type, and...
Unfortunately, Jacinthe doesn't get time to contemplate that. The Neo Aqua grunts have started to make their move toward the museum after what seems to be a small scuffle outside of it with one of the recent arrivals--not Corbeau, thankfully, but Jacinthe knows better than to let these troglodytes fester.
Jacinthe gets up from the rooftop she'd been sitting on, throwing a Luxury Ball into the air as Altaria comes out.]
Altaria, my dear, we must make haste! These foul miscreants will not be allowed to threaten the peace of Slateport while I draw breath!
Come! Let us go and make merry together~
[She doesn't have to think about the man like this. She doesn't have to think about someone she had been so content to shove out of her mind for years, someone that rightfully rejected her because she let herself get caught up in feelings. Who needs them, anyway, when the adrenaline rush of a coming fight is so much better?
(And yet, she bellows loudly enough that he could certainly hear, if he truly is who she thinks he is. If he's somehow looking for her after all these years.
Let the man come and gawk.)
Jacinthe is quick to dart off toward the museum shortly after, pushing her way past more than a few complaining tourists as she makes a beeline toward glorious battle. She's definitely outnumbered, but is that not half the fun? She can truly see if they put up a fight like this, or if she'll just cleave them all down.
It's time for the fun to begin; are you following, Corbeau?]
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