Yahaha, you found me! Extremely selective test muse for EXECUTIVE ARIANA of TEAM ROCKET. Penned by Dan (31, he/him.)
Follows from my shiny new hub blog @danagerie. Same general rules from that blog apply here as well, along with the disclaimers below. Above all: be cool. Be patient. Low activity planned, depending on vibes.
IMPORTANT DISCLAIMERS
This blog will feature heavy themes of abuse, violence, gore, death and other dark/sensitive topics. Ariana plays a proud, important role within a criminal organization and will not be holding back in any fashion. Don't vibe? Don't follow. It's all good!
Still here? Excellent. Please read Ariana's dossier!
To prevent myself from getting overwhelmed, I want to avoid placing Ariana into situations where she would not appear normally, and she's usually in-base.
While she holds all of them very dear, I do not place any labels on the close relationships that Ariana has with Giovanni or the other executives. I also headcanon that Silver is not Ariana's son, at least not in this portrayal's main verse--AUs are fun, though! (She does help raise him along with the other executives, however. We do a little liiiight indoctrinating...)
Ah. Still loyal to her pack of poachers it seems. Ariana was a respectable figure in their line of business. She had to be well versed in keep a front in a rival’s company. The meeting was made neutral but that did not mean there wasn’t danger. Between sips of wine and polite talk she watched for any notable signs. A nervous tick, perhaps an inability to keep eye contact or even keeping too much of it.
No signs of weakness. However the slight purse in lips at her comment told her Ariana wasn’t planning on leaving Rocket. …Not yet anyways.
“ I cant seek a throne I already own, my friend.” Said with an almost too playful note in thick Kalosian accent. They were two predators circling each other. Dear Ariana trying to call a facade to trip her up. How attractive. Her heart even skips a beat and her lips stretch to a dangerous smile. Was that Adrenalin or romance? She couldn’t tell the difference either way. Both were such a rush and whatever was in her sights became prey. Let’s catch up then. “ Lysandre is dead. I alone have Kalos in my palms and there is no fool with his grandiose rapture tomfoolery holding us back anymore.”
Blunt. Not a note of remorse for her former head. Malva had kept on swirling the contents of her wine by the glass stem. Crimson eyes meet her ruby glare.
No pride lion meant nothing held back the pride’s lioness anymore. Too much to prove with far too much to protect to keep her claws sheathed. Flare moved on from grandiose to covert but not as a matter of defeat. It’s to their advantage.
“ A matter of keeping relations open. You understand. Housekeeping. Ensuring even with the old king dead NEO Flare is keeping its partners and whatever agreements. I, however, do not care for empty business platitudes.” Ariana was right. She wasn’t here just for a meal. Malva watches carefully. “ I prefer exchange of favors to solidify relations instead. I scratch your back, you scratch mine so to speak. It makes separating the inept from the trustworthy easy. Once we’ve fulfilled our mutual requests I say we’re golden. Enticing, non?”
Her Rotom phone floated up from behind her as if on queue. One hand busied on the screen and the other stroked the mane of her Pyroar who raised her head from her lap. Information buzzed in a code only her and a few select subordinates can understand. No chances taken.
“ I specifically wanted you from Rocket because of your strengths if you’re asking why I haven’t gone to Giovanni for official matters. I care less for syndicate ‘leaders’. Too much yellow tape and waiting around for an audience. Bothersome.” Brusque. She doesn’t care for any of the “rules” syndicates fashioned between each other either. She’s out to prove she’s twice the operation any of these dull men on their plastic thrones are. “ Impressive log might I say. Beautiful and zealous. A shame you’re an executive of an executive. You have too much potential for that.”
A genuine comment or bait? Malva’s eye flickers from her screen to Ariana.
malva's update--delivered like news from the holo caster--halts the crystalline wine glass inches from ariana's lips. though the rocket's hand remains steady 'pon the stem, her ruby-hued eyes widen with practiced interest. curiosity.
"hm..." is all ariana ventures at first, swirling the blood-red vintage as she mulls over the practiced, hungry words flowing from malva's mouth. clandestine meetings like these were obviously quite routine to both women, though--at least to ariana--the secret thrill that accompanied hushed gossip never seemed to lose its flavor.
"...taking up the helm is no easy feat. at this stage, it makes sense that you're seeking capable hands. partnerships. alliances," she hums, watching malva's gaze flicker across the screen. "of course, team rocket would love to assist...neo flare as it rises from the ashes. however, let me make one thing very clear."
ariana leans forward, hand reaching up to gently push malva's rotom phone away. her voice lowers slightly--she rarely needs to raise it to get her points across anymore. the quiet aura radiating from the executive is enough to loudly command attention all on its own.
"I am not immune to flattery. this dinner, your beautiful company...you're truly spoiling me, and I'm grateful for it. you have a hunger that I respect, miss bellerose. and you can consider me invested in your success, to a point." ariana pauses, that unreadable smile still playing upon her lips. "but. I will always be placing rocket's interests first, regardless of how much you try to goad me into some sort of rebellion. so instead of wasting your time trying to turn me, dear...let's re-focus on more interesting topics." a wink. "...let's not be greedy, now."
belladonna hisses from the floor, scaring a waiter who drops off a dessert platter before disappearing, sweat dripping down his fancy collar. ariana's smile widens as she finally indulges in that overdue sip of wine, some color tinging her pale features as she eyes the spread approvingly.
"with all this being said, of course I'd be willing to...reaffirm our partnership. rocket would be happy to serve as a foundation for your ambitions--our connection with kalos is currently quite fragile, as you know. so tell me more about this 'exchange of favors'...or you can tell me exactly what you think my 'strengths' are." ariana's tone is almost intimate as she leans her cheek upon her fist, her other hand ghosting over malva's knuckles as she idly reaches for a napkin. perhaps the wine is having more of an effect than the executive lets on. "...mm, I don't know. maybe I just like hearing you talk."
(ooc. the worst part about the plza release is that the ar/bok tag has been completely overrun by cor/beau pics. get out of here dude I'm trying to see my snakes!! 😩😩😩)
@pyroaress sent: “ You’re not half bad .. for a Rocket. You’re not looking for new opportunities are you? Scarlet Queens are worth more than bland pawns and there’s so little moving space on your side of the board~ ”
not half bad for a rocket.
ariana purses her lips at the backhanded remark, but her composure stays poised. sturdy. no scenes at dinner, especially when she's being treated. they're in some fancy lumiose restaurant--crystal chandeliers, gold leaf on plates, expensive wines in glasses--their privacy secured by a thick partition shielding them from the other patrons (or the other patrons from them.)
belladonna, ariana's arbok, coils languidly by her trainer's heels (much to the chagrin of the waitstaff, but none have the nerve to tell ariana off.)
in response to malva's coy remarks, the rocket looks up...and laughs.
"ironic..." ariana hums, leaning forward slightly, a wordless challenge glinting in those imperious, ruby eyes. "flare's lioness, lecturing me about 'moving space' while she's the one trapped in kalos's gilded cage."
the executive takes a slow sip of wine, letting the moment stew before continuing. "...as you are well aware, rocket has eyes everywhere. unmatched presence, yet enough freedom to dine openly with a stunning woman...mm, I want for very little."
"but you," ariana smiles, lowering her timbre to something discreet, almost intimate. her intense gaze locks with the gleam of malva's glasses. "you are hungry. you crave the throne again. I hear it in your words, see it on your face. it's why I've been called here tonight."
"so," she declares in a soft tone that demands transparency, reaching over to top off their wine glasses while gently turning the tables. "from scarlet queen to scarlet queen...how can I help you, miss bellerose?"
“ You need to rest, miss. ” Her voice comes with concern, but still stern, as she places a cup of boiling water and a tea bag on Ariana's desk. “ Would you like some sugar? ”
face illuminated by the glow of her monitor, ariana glances up at mel's arrival, her expression shifting from exasperation to relief. she pushes herself away from her desk, gloved hands massaging her wrists while fixing her colleague with a tired, wry smile.
"...thank you, melinoë. always so thoughtful," she murmurs smoothly. "though your order is a bit hypocritical, no?" (ariana's observation is justified--perhaps nobody in this base worked harder than mel. she's one of ariana's favorites.)
belladonna, ariana's enormous arbok, suddenly interrupts the tender moment by crunching her dinner between massive gore-stained coils. for better or worse, mel had arrived during feeding time, but both women pay the serpent little mind (or pretend not to.)
"belladonna's almost finished eating dinner. sit with me for a while, or I'll go right back to working," ariana threatens lightheartedly, nodding towards the chair in front of her desk. "I feel like it's been too long since we've touched base--I've missed you."
"Listen up, princess. I don't care who you think you are, or why you're here. If you waltz in my base with your Pokèmon out, you're going to cause a situation.
"oh, well...we wouldn't want a situation now, would we? my apologies."
ariana's smooth voice echoes within the ruined tower as she raises her gloved hands in confident surrender, heeled boots kicking up dust and ash with every poised step. crimson eyes lock, and the executive peers up at the biggest woman she's ever seen.
"...belladonna," ariana orders, and the arbok--busy intimidating some team tarnish fighters--obediently coils up by the ancient entrance with a begrudging huff. with her pokemon brought to heel, ariana refocuses her attention back on the main subject. a small, curt bow. "my pokemon will keep her distance and wait outside--she's only a safeguard to what I hope can just be a nice, simple conversation."
"this is quite the operation that you've built in here--I suppose the rumors about tetsuka were true after all, hm...? I just had to come see for myself," ariana continues, gazing around as she paces the perimeter. "...we've started to notice overlap in some...mutual targets. of course, team tarnish has a much more direct approach--you're faster, too. lower to the ground. efficient. I like that."
ariana chooses her next words with careful delicateness. "...I'm not here for any takeovers or assimilations. however, I do think there's room for co-existence of both groups--so what would it take to earn your cooperation here in ecruteak?"
"price is no object, of course..." she murmurs, her gaze and smile darkening, "and if it's the thrill of the hunt you're after? we can provide more...worthwhile targets as well."
just thinking about how cool ariana's rooftop garden would be as a wild zone...oddish buried in the dirt, weedle & spinarak scuttling around, weepinbell snacking on something (or someone) suspiciously in a shady corner. and of course, a rotating cast of executive aces hanging out & serving as the alpha. doing a bit of mauling, as a treat.
"mm. business. how formal." ariana's voice is soft, yet carries a concealed edge (much like the rest of her.) the smile that she offers yamiko seems warm, though her eyes--deep crimson--seem to stare right through the syndicate higher-up. the rocket matron brushes a bit of webbing from her pristine clothes (she had swapped her typical white uniform for a sharp blazer and dark pants. in this kalosian mecca of high fashion, she fit right in.)
"I've heard much about this rust syndicate, and found it intriguing. no transactions, no deals yet--I would simply like to know things," ariana demurs, pausing to regard a spinarak scuttling across yamiko's desk with approval. "I appreciate you sitting down with me to explain exactly what this organization does. once I have more information and can evaluate this...syndicate's compatibility as a potential partner? then I'll be happy to discuss business."
a manicured hand is extended, nails painted a glossy blood-red. "ariana shim. it's a pleasure to meet with someone who looks so sharp. I've heard so much about you, yamiko."
yamiko has yet to introduce herself, and judging by the smile still on ariana's lips...she knows that.
He feels like throwing up.
Silver's tongue clicks against the top of his mouth, grimacing slightly the more she keeps on talking.
And he'd love to look up.
And he'd love to be as aggressive as he learned to be with anyone who tried to stand in his way.
And he'd love to do just release his Croconaw and show her what he's capable of first hand, without having to deal with stupid spies.
All he does is clinging to his badge case, biting down his answer when she asks how many he managed to gain.
"I'm sure your dogs told you already."
He's sure they told her of his victories, of the delay when it came to his sixth badge, of his scuffle with the Professor's favorite brats when the Steel-Type Gym Leader couldn't be found.
The nauseous feeling got worse, his grip tighter, his frown deeper, as if he expected someone like her to be impressed with his sorry excuse of a reaction.
Pathetic.
"...and I'm sure Proton already told you that I'm not interested in any... connection. Or crown. Or whatever."
Proton, who he ran into after he had his ass handed to him by some guys with a Totodile and a Chikorita - who still tried to be all friendly after Silver himself took care of his grunts.
His family.
"Or your pity."
Because no she isn't.
She's not proud of him.
Or-- is she? Of course anyone would be. He's doing great.
But-- he doesn't want that. He doesn't need that.
He doesn't want to believe her pride is genuine.
A gulp forces down bile as he shifts on his position, hiding his mouth in his clothes. Making himself small.
"oh, proton tells me a lot of things," ariana waves her hand dismissively. "but--circling back to the beginning of our conversation--people change. I think one day, you'll come to accept the power that you hold, but such revelations take time."
her voice is soft, almost kind, but her smile always has an edge to it. ariana looks right through silver, straight into the tender, shielded parts of his psyche. you know you can't hide from us. from me.
"...mahogany town is next on your agenda, is it not? our...latest initiative is headquartered in the area," ariana mentions, rising languidly from her seat, pristine jacket sweeping behind her. "rocket's influence is also very high there. why, I could just say a few words, and pryce would all but forfeit the glacierbadge to you--though I'm sure you'd hate that. I'll be looking forward to your next fight, regardless."
rocket is everywhere. goldenrod, mahogany, even writ large on silver's own face. (somewhere in the depths of memory, a gun flashes, linking them both together forever.) ariana looks down at the heir's stormy expression with that disarming fondness.
"...you're conflicted, but this feeling will pass. our plans are almost coming to fruition," she remarks, heeled boots clicking as she strides over to pet belladonna's coils. "...who knows? the league itself may look very different by the time you arrive. and when you do, to claim what you deserve?" ariana's grin widens, even as her subtle tone hardens, "...I hope you will have chosen the right side. would you like any ice heals before you go? pryce's mamoswine can be a bit of a menace, I fear..."
f is for finding future employment / drabble for @evoblue
"come in," ariana calls, and the door to her office slides open, revealing a grunt with a sheaf of papers under their arm. dossiers--profiles of scientists, researchers, and other brilliant minds are slid across her desk for perusal. deep beneath mahogany town, team rocket was rapidly reassembling the bones of the empire that had been haphazardly left behind. known for their brutality, ariana and the other executives were equally unmatched when it came to salvaging scraps and putting things back together. they needed fellow sharp minds and kindred souls to relight rocket's flame...but anybody could be bought for the right price. (or coerced.)
they were quite skilled at that, too.
the grunt is rambling about the magikarp holding tanks, the progression of rocket's secret radio-wave manipulation tech...but ariana isn't listening, her intense eyes scanning the assembled documents. a polished fingernail traces the profile of an underlined name: celia de la rue-aozaki. alias: blue. interesting. her evolution research could be quite the boon for the gyarados project, but her prior associations-
"silph company," ariana murmurs to herself, the grunt effectively now frozen into the foreground as the executive types a command on her keyboard. images spill forth on the monitor: profiles of blue's mother and father, headlines concerning red and green, and more, all gleaned from the world's most ingrained spy network. seeking her assistance could be a reckless move, she calculates. even with all the right strings pulled, it's not worth the risk. not at this stage in the game...
still, ariana muses, dismissing the grunt with a wave of her hand. this is definitely someone to...keep tabs on. but for now?
the grunt pales a bit as they step around belladonna. the executive's gargantuan arbok is still busy devouring the last failed interview, a bloodied lab coat strewn garishly across her coils. and yet, more scientists would walk through these doors, willingly or otherwise. the stack of gathered dossiers is still so, so high. ariana smiles as she casually plucks another from the pile.
life is so monotonous. until it isn't. nothing happens, and then everything happens--all at once.
while poring over rocket's latest attendance record, ariana squints as the names suddenly appear to blur under the office fluorescents. huginn squawks with alarm as the steadfast executive keels backwards...and then everything goes black.
something primal stirs within ariana when she's brought back to consciousness, her fist instinctively lashing out and catching her savior in the chin. the swipe fails to knock the twinkle from archer's eyes as he cracks his neck and peers down behind his medical mask, his black gloves pressing a cold bottle of fresh water to ariana's lips.
dehydrated. overworked. the doctor's diagnosis lands with the expected smugness, and ariana curses at him. calls him a hypocrite. but she drinks all the same. despite the banter, a warm sense of relief washes over the room.
they had been building rocket (and each other) up since forever. they had created a bond forged from the very fact that their existences are brutal and fleeting. (anything to find a foothold within this stark, sneering reality.)
beneath the devotion lies a promise. the same promise that led archer to drop everything mid-autopsy upon hearing murkrow's summons. a promise reciprocated countless times among all the executives. debts paid and repaid--no questions asked.
Silver shifts his weight on the chair, clearly antsy.
He isn't sure why he agreed to sit there and talk. He isn't sure what made him reconsider the possibility to battle to begin with, honestly.
Did he miss talking to her? To anyone?
No. No no no he didn't.
If he keeps repeating that to himself he'll start believing it, someday.
Then why did he accept to visit?
Why is he here, even if he could just pull out his Kadabra and leave?
Ariana looks straight at him, and he couldn't look away from the floor.
"I don't have friends.", the boy eventually grumbles.
He has tools. He has Pokèmon. He has self-proclaimed rivals.
"And I don't care about Rockets."
A blatant lie.
"I'm here because you told me to. That's it.
I'm proving all of you that I'm managing to win all by myself after all, no? Since you know so much about me."
ariana's laugh is soft, almost musical. always a little bit dangerous.
"oh, you've already grown so much," she hums, looking at silver with almost a hint of motherly affection before her gleaming gaze narrows again. "the grunts tasked to tail you? they tell me that you're setting johto's sleepy league ablaze. good. how many badges is it, now...?"
ariana shifts some desk papers aside to pour herself another steaming cup of tea. the jasmine fragrance washes over the bleak, stainless atmosphere, vapors obscuring the harsh fluorescents buzzing overhead.
"...yes, you're certainly ahead of schedule. as expected, given your pedigree," the executive murmurs before leveling that unnervingly warm stare at silver again. studying. (as if she's dissecting his fanged psyche, right there in the chair--) "...and your journey is your own. however--"
ariana leans in, just a bit closer.
"to survive in this world, you need connections--but to thrive? you need the right ones. don't let pride or petty feelings blind you from the truth: rocket will always be a force to be reckoned with, regardless of champion, government, or region. and you are fortunate enough to find shelter and support within our web. opportunity, even."
ariana leans back. "you still have a ways to go, but take your time. impose your will and better your tactics. and when you are ready to seize that opportunity? when you're finally ready to assume your role and handle true power...?" she grins, pushing the steaming mug towards silver with some matriarchal insistency. "we'll be ready too. for your...hm. coronation." her eyes flick to the glint of the badge case cradled in silver's lap.
gameverse @missingstarter bc you realy think i wouldnt send smth to BOTH ??
" people don't change. you know that. "
"...what a bold claim. as expected from you," ariana hums, clasping her hands pensively.
silver sits across from her desk, in that impossibly-clean office which reeks of disinfectant. he looks like he doesn't want to be there...but for the moment, they both sit--pointless tea steam rising from the untouched cups set between them, the tension amplified by the buzzing of the fluorescent lights.
"I wonder, then...perhaps you can tell me why you're so eager to change yourself? new badges, new friends...they can't cover up what you've done, or the blood on your hands. they can't alter the blood coursing through your veins as rocket's one true heir."
the executive's painted smile curls as she takes a careful sip of tea. (she never brings up the issue of silver's desertion, though she's personally executed grunts for less.)
"team rocket will always be a part of you. it's why you return here, even now, time after time," ariana murmurs gently, almost soothingly. "the sooner you accept that? the easier things will be. for everybody involved."
