Dastardly Deeds [Leap]

i've been down, i've been beat, i've been tossed into the street. beggin' nickels, beggin' dimes just to get my bottle of wine. some say life, she's a lady, kind of soft, kind of shady. i can't tell you life is rich: she's no lady, she's a bitch. they set my body out - that, man, there is no doubt. gotta pay the devil his dues 'cause i'm so sick of bein' abused. eat the rich, eat the rich.

Evelyn didn't know especially too much about the organizations that had existed outside of Orre for most of her life – television wasn't exactly a delicacy she'd had access to, and it wasn't like she would have bothered to learn much about the frivolously named teams, anyway – so she was left grasping at straws when it came to many things about Team Aqua that her teammates seemed to know like second nature. Her short time spend as an Aqua grunt, however, was not short enough a time to miss out on the crazy rivalry that was going on between it and its sister group, Team Magma. Opposites in everything outside of the whole “good guy, bad guy” bit, it was really a no-brainer as to why they hated one another so much, and why she constantly reminded to give known Magmas as much trouble as she could when the opportunity presented itself.

While she, herself, didn't really give a second thought to people on Team Magma, when the green-eyed female learned that her personal search's next destination was going to land her right smack dab in the middle of their jurisdiction, she just knew it was a chance she couldn't pass up. Plus, vandalizing Vermillion on her way through would probably get her some brownie points with her fellow Aqualads. Er. Aqua members, that was. No one would ever even notice it as it happened, either, seeing as she had no reputation in either the mainland or back in Hoenn, and they'd have to pay her twice her salary if they wanted her to swap out her own clothing for that ugly pirate-looking uniform. There was no definite plan about what, exactly, she was going to do to the city and any Magmas that were lurking around, but whatever it was going to be, it was going to be glorious.

Vermillion City was certainly something to look at. Compared to rusted scrap metal that made up much of Pyrite and the Under, the uniform ocean-side location was a sight for sore eyes. “Almost a shame I've gotta lay it to waste,” Vivi said through a mouthful of half-chewed beef, a mostly un-eaten hamburger clutched in a calloused hand. “It'll sure beat any of the other dumb jobs I've had to do for the dumb team.” Taking slow steps, only half paying attention to the crowd around her as she went, the raven-haired grunt tried to imagine what sort of things she could do that would send the clearest message, as well as providing her the most entertainment. It should have come to no surprise to anyone when she came into a collision with someone else whose head was also in the clouds, walking in the opposite direction of her. Both staggered, neither falling, and he didn't skip a beat in apologizing, “Sorry, my mistake.” Unharmed and with her head still partly in the clouds, she figured it'd be better not to hold it against him. “Oh, it's fine, I -”

And that was when she noticed the lack of a perfect, massive, delicious hamburger in her hands.

“My food!” Evelyn wailed. Condiments has been splattered onto her perfectly clean black shirt, what remained of the squashed patty haven fallen to the ground with a sickening splat. There went lunch. “You wouldn't happen to be hurt, would you?” the stranger had been saying as she sobbed in her mind with self pity; only registering it at that moment, something bitter filled her facial features and tone. “Oh, yes, look, I'm just gushing blood. That'll teach you wear knives all over your clothes. Of course not, you idiot! Unfortunately, I can't really say the same thing about that burger you just ruined!”

i've been down, i've been beat, i've been tossed into the street. beggin' nickels, beggin' dimes just to get my bottle of wine. some say life, she's a lady, kind of soft, kind of shady. i can't tell you life is rich: she's no lady, she's a bitch. they set my body out - that, man, there is no doubt. gotta pay the devil his dues 'cause i'm so sick of bein' abused. eat the rich, eat the rich.

Something familiar flashed in the stranger's eyes for a split second. He masked it nearly as soon as and as quickly as it had arrived, but the bitterness was noted all the same. She'd grown up around people who were always irritated with her, and trying to hide it behind apathetic faces and smooth woods did nothing to quell the oncoming storm. Just because he was better at playing the part of someone who paid no heed to her rude reaction than most did not mean that he was that person, and her loud, biting personality did wonders in pushing people over the edge. Curiosity scratched at the corners of her mind: how long would it take to get under this strange man's skin? “It would appear so. If it meant that much, I'll buy you something else.” Bingo. Just the reply she'd been looking for. Not only did it mean that she'd get a replacement for her hamburger – and possibly of higher quality, if his attire was any indication of how fat his wallet was – but she'd get to mess with someone, yet. Vermillion City as a whole would be spare for a while longer, if only at the expense of a man who let his manners get the better of his wits when bumping into demanding strangers.

“Oh, it did mean that much,” the raven-haired grunt said, voice still dripping of the anger that had mostly subsided rather than the slyness that was whirling around inside her mind. Whereas he was good at banishing indications of his emotions, she was good at not letting them show in the first place. “And if you think another Cheapy McCheap burger is gonna do as compensation, you'd better think again, hot shot.” His eyes drifted slightly, seeming to focus on the splashes of color that now stained her once perfectly black shirt, and the sigh that fell from his mouth was unmistakable. “And a new shirt, if that's an acceptable apology.” Oh? What was this? To replace someone's ruined fast food was one thing – about anyone with a good head on their shoulders would do that – but there were fewer than the number of people she could count on a hand that she knew that would offer to buy someone a new shirt. In all honesty, though, she hadn't gotten any new clothes in quite some time, and some of her old ones were growing worse and worse in quality. This one had been fine, but a replacement would definitely be nice...

Evelyn cooed, “Oooh, tempting. You certainly know how to make a woman forget about all her woes: clothes shopping!” Pretending to weight her options, despite already having come to one, she slowly finished, “... Well, we'll see about what kind of shirt we're talkin' about and how forgiving I'm feeling when you buy it for me.”

i've been down, i've been beat, i've been tossed into the street. beggin' nickels, beggin' dimes just to get my bottle of wine. some say life, she's a lady, kind of soft, kind of shady. i can't tell you life is rich: she's no lady, she's a bitch. they set my body out - that, man, there is no doubt. gotta pay the devil his dues 'cause i'm so sick of bein' abused. eat the rich, eat the rich.

He didn't relent.

It wasn't as if Evelyn had expected to him, really; it would happen before the day was over, most definitely, and she wasn't going to go on with her life until she bore witness to it. Demanding for a lunch that would cost more than a burger that, while being delicious by every definition of the word, was no more than five dollars out of her pocket didn't have him crumpling before her. It was for the better, really – she'd get a nice meal out of the whole deal, and victory would be sweeter the longer it took to achieve it. No glory in a lopsided battle, after all, eh? A smirk played with the corner of his mouth, shifting the contours of his face and signaling the start of their mutual game. It suited him, really, about as well as anger did her. She could only imagine how many other people he'd made that same face to; how many of them, she wondered, tried to push his buttons until he snapped, like her?

“Perhaps a sit down lunch, then? Nothing cheap, I assure you.” Ah, there it was. Confirmation of her compensation. Not that it wouldn't be hard to fool her, claiming to take her to a quality place only to leave her stranded in some run down, low maintenance place. He probable knew the city better than she; even if he wasn't from there, he could have been from Kanto, or any of the other main regions, really, and had more prior knowledge of it than his uneducated acquaintance. To back down, though, would be asinine; her only option was to make a fool of herself and back down, and push the limits even further. “I'll accept nothing less! I'd be offended if you thought even fer a second that I'd let you get away with handing me something to eat on the run. No, no, I want the best food in town. I want my taste buds to be singing Arceus praises 'fore I'm out of the place.” As for what she'd do if she received anything less? … Er, she'd think about that when it came up. If it came up, that was.

The shirt bit didn't do much to deter him, either. Though, honestly, an expensive dinner probably would cost more than any shirt she'd allow herself to wear; it still just seemed so strange to her to have someone willing to buy a brand new shirt to replace one that would, at worst, get a view hardly visible stains. He said as calmly as ever, “I can buy you something nice or normal if you wish.” Yeesh, what sort of money did this guy have? So nonchalantly offering to buy food and clothing for a stranger... Well, perhaps he was testing how long he could last just as much as she. If he was offering money, however, to not go looking for more would be simply foolish. “Such a gentlemen! ya' know, it's so hard to come by guys like you back at home. And since you're such a gentlemen, I'm sure you understand that one can't simply buy just a shirt... right? I mean, society these days – it's all about looks! If I don't have designer shoes to match that nice little shirt, think of the ridicule!” Putting on an innocent face that was about as false as the smile he'd put on earlier, Vivi added, “I mean, I can't ask that of you, I've been asking too much already. But... Oh, woe is a girl who can't have matching shoes. You understand, right, Mister... Uh...”

… Wait, she still didn't know his name.

“Oh, right, introductions. I forgot about that. Unless you'd like to remain anonymous, Mr. hot shot.”

i've been down, i've been beat, i've been tossed into the street. beggin' nickels, beggin' dimes just to get my bottle of wine. some say life, she's a lady, kind of soft, kind of shady. i can't tell you life is rich: she's no lady, she's a bitch. they set my body out - that, man, there is no doubt. gotta pay the devil his dues 'cause i'm so sick of bein' abused. eat the rich, eat the rich.

Despite the fact that'd she'd yet to get the desired reaction from him yet, Evelyn couldn't help but feel a bit satisfied with herself at the same time. Sure, the words from her mouth were nothing new; biting sarcasm was something she'd learned early on and sharpened and abused over time. The fact that it was matched, however, and for so long was something new, and... entertaining, to say the least. Perhaps she'd spare her vandalism of the city around them. Really, it was beautiful, and if she shared one quality with the members of Team Aqua, it was that fleeting sense of guilt that would gnaw at her when she did something wrong for the sake of doing wrong. But she wouldn't come home without something to reflect upon with amusement, no siree; not if the little sherade they had going on was to persist.

Was he a Team Aqua member, the raven-haired girl wondered for a moment? She'd been there for so short a time, spent so little time around base, he honestly could have been without her ever knowing. She had to remind herself, however, that he could have easily been a normal citizen or – worse – affiliated with another team. Galactic and Rocket seemed to pose the most threat to her own organization, seeing as Plasma and Flare were a bunch of pansies. But the latter's extravagant taste in fashion would certainly explain the belly shirt and lack of shoes. … On second thought, she wasn't going to entertain the thought of him being on some other team. As long as she didn't bring it up, she couldn't see the groups being of any relevance whatsoever.

The smirk never really left his face at all, and at this point, she'd probably be more surprised to not see it throughout the remaining duration of their encounter. Followed by a little hum of noise, he responded, “Arceus praises you will have, then, my dear. I hope you won't be leaving unsatisfied.” So that was it – it was settled. He'd made a promise to treat her to the best Vermillion City could offer, and she was not going to let him leave until she'd been given just that. Placing a hand on her hip and leaning to the side, she said, “You've got some idea of where we're going, then, right? I mean, you can't expect a lady to make the important decisions.”

Her tangent about needing shoes to match the shirt and everything about society ridiculing a lack of fashion was met with unexpected results. Up until that point, both had remained relatively calm, disregarding her immediate burst of anger in response to her ruined burger – though she was still a little upset about the ketchup that was slowly dripping down her shirt and would likely end up getting on her pants, as well, if she didn't get to cleaning up the mess soon – so to have him burst into laughter like that was sudden and... a little scary, honestly. As the eyes of simple-minded citizens turned to focus on the cackling man, said black-haired male clutching his stomach due to the nature of his laughter, all Vivi could do was let her smile fade into something clearly reflecting how uncomfortable she felt and wait for him to get over whatever sort of spell had fallen over him. By the time he was looking at her again, fire eyes meeting leaves, she hastily tried to remedy the awkward expression with something more akin to apathy.

“How amusing,” he cooed. “If that's the case, dear... you must show me what other things you wear. Because I can't help but not see you as a designer girl.” Ah, so that was the cause of the sudden outbreak. Lips twitching into a shadow of the smirk that had been there before, she gestured to the plain shirt and tattered jeans she adorned. “Picture this,” Evelyn instructed. “Now add about one hundred fifty percent more holes. That's it. That's my wardrobe. I like to think I'm – ha ha – ahead of my time, though; I mean, why else would they sell pre-ripped jeans for a hundred dollars at those ridiculous clothing stores?” The look of amusement died, however, as a serious tone took over his voice and he added, “Though, if you wish to become like that... perhaps a dress would be the first step. Something black, maybe.” Raising an eyebrow incredulously, she countered, “Well, that depends – are you going to be getting that for be instead of the shirt? Of course, I wouldn't mind slapping them both onto the tab; more “socially acceptable” clothes for me.”

“You may call me Kalem. And what shall I call you, princess?”

The hand that was extended to her caught her a bit off guard – well, he really was a gentleman, wasn't he? - but she hardly missed a beat in resting her own in his grip. “The name's Evelyn. You're welcome to keep calling me princess, though; has a nice ring to it.” Face unchanging as he bent down to peck at the back of her calloused hand, she quickly brought it back to her side, absentmindedly wiping it against the side of her pant leg. With a grin as sweet as a child who most definitely did not steal the cookie from the cookie jar, the Aqua added, “Oh, I probably should have said this ten seconds ago, but... that was the hand I was eating my burger with. You might want to wash some of the grease I totally just transferred to your hand before you go off buying anything for me.”