[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.]
[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?
[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!
[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 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?
[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.]
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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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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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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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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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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...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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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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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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