Welcome to Gaia! ::

As they exited the elevator into the hallway, the melody in Izaya's head would suddenly stop, replacing by a cry of recognition, "Home!" Luciole remembered the floor containing the agent quarters and darted forward a bit, looking at the doors in an effort to identify the one that was her trainer's. "Aila, where!" she echoed, a similar tone to Izaya's dominating her telepathic voice.

A ways down the hall, one of the doors opened, a dark-haired agent lingering at the frame with a palm pressed to her forehead, evidently fending off headache, fatigue, or a combination of the two. With a deep breath, she allowed the door to swing shut behind her and started down the hall, though her path was soon impeded by an excited voice in her thoughts, "Aila, here!"

"Luciole!" Aila's tone wasn't anywhere near as excited as the legendary's; it was, in fact, quite irritable. "And where exactly have you been, after I specifically told you to stay put?"

The Jirachi deflated just short of pouncing her trainer, locking her gaze on a vague spot on the floor. "Sorry..."

Though Luciole was inexperienced in distinguishing tone of voice as a means of evaluating emotions, Aila quickly picked up on the exasperation in Izaya's voice as he mimicked the Jirachi. "She's been bothering you, has she?" A slightly disapproving glance was cast in the legendary's direction, the target shrinking slightly from the gaze. "I apologize for that. She slipped away before I noticed." A distinct fatigue wore into her tone, but she disregarded the comment on her headache and its cause.

A sigh before she quietly addressed the wish pokemon, "Luciole, I leave you out of your pokeball because you dislike it, not so you can wander around and distract people. If this happens again, I'll take measures against it." The Jirachi, listening sulkingly to the lecture, nodded once and moved to the girl's shoulder, clinging there and regarding Izaya with large, pink eyes and a murmured 'sorry.'

At the question of her well-being, Aila tilted her head slightly in a mild confusion, absently raising a hand to the Jirachi at her shoulder. "No, I'm fine." Though the dimness of her usually bright, focused eyes told a different story, even if it was a tale that was only whispered in hushed tones.

She frowned slightly. "You can think of it as a trial, if it makes you feel better about the whole thing," she suggested. "I've found very little need to put up with telepathic voices in my past missions, but I suppose it could come in handy someday?"

A wry smirk responded to his evaluation of her appearance. "That's not a very polite thing to say to someone," she replied, turning in what seemed to be preparation to depart. There was, however, a distinct absence of any offended intonations in her voice, so it could be assumed that her reprimand was primarily in jest. "As for what I've been doing, reports and other paperwork, mostly. And while I appreciate the offer, much of what I'm doing is classified, so I must decline. I still have a lot I need to get done today, actually, so if you'll forgive me for being brief..." She lingered momentarily, in case he had any other questions or concerns he felt the need to voice.

"Well, worst-case scenario, you now have some experience dealing with Jirachi. I can't say it's an exceptionally desirable skill, but it's a skill nonetheless," she said with a shrug. She had heard about Jirachi, of course, but it had taken direct experience in order to get used to the thing.

"Follow!" It seemed the listening party had plans similar to those that Izaya anticipated, though a staying hand from her trainer dissuaded the legendary from parting from her side. "That isn't..." The hand moved from the Jirachi to return to her forehead, her expression fleetingly exhausted and vaguely pained as the sheer momentum sustaining her began to run out. A sigh, and she continued, "That isn't necessary. It wouldn't be proper to push her on you when she obviously bothers you." Her volume decreased as she spoke, settling into a murmur, "I'll just have Gui look after her... He's good at that sort of thing..."

The legendary regarded Izaya with an expectant little 'o' face as he addressed her. "Play?" she assumed with a wide smile. "Il me parait bien--"

"No, Luciole. Hush." The Jirachi pouted but otherwise obeyed. "Gui is my Pidgeotto," she explained, "given to me by my brother. Unfortunately, he's proven himself trustworthy time and again, so I have to place my faith with him." She knew there were several situations in which he had demonstrated that trustworthiness, but it was too much effort to think about such idle things.

Why was she just standing there? She was tired - exhausted even. A growing headache throbbed throughout her skull. Her patience was approaching its limit. "I really do need to get back to work." Obviously the solution to all this was to shove it aside and focus on productivity. With a nod to dismiss herself, she turned and started down the hall with every intent to return to her department and pick up where she had left off after realizing Luciole had disappeared. She wouldn't make it further than a couple of steps forward before meeting Izaya's expectation, catching herself with her wrist and quickly righting herself to a sitting position against the nearest wall. "I don't have time for this," she murmured to herself, making efforts to rise that were, at the moment, fruitless. Momentum was no substitute for rest and nutrition.

"I rest at night," she objected irritably, her frustration at the sudden spell of weakness biting into her words, "and during the day, if I've finished everything I need to do. I make sure to do at least that much. I can't afford to deal with illness." What she failed to mention - failed even to notice herself - was that the rest she promised herself at night became more and more scarce and fitful as the worries and stresses of her various responsibilities accumulated in her thoughts.

"I don't need medical attention, if that's what you think," she said, closing her eyes momentarily in the briefest semblance of rest. "This isn't all that uncommon. I just need a moment to regain my bearings..." This moment translated into only a few fleeting seconds before Aila deemed herself fit to rise, a steadying hand lingering against the wall as she did. Luciole, who seemed to perceive as much about the situation as to realize that any additional pressure could topple her trainer, slipped away from the agent's shoulder cautiously, watching with an expression of bewilderment.

Though standing, the girl was obviously still faint, as evidenced by her wavering stance and pallid complexion. Her features betrayed that she was aware of this, as did her hesitance to move from her place. "I'm not sick," she murmured defiantly, as if saying as much would remove all traces of lightheadedness from her person.

"My age has nothing to do with my rank nor my responsibilities." A slightly amused sound escaped her as he mentioned the potential for death a second time, "If I die, it's not going to be from paperwork. I can assure you of that." If she had survived a Ho-Oh's Sky Attack, she couldn't imagine being downed by daily assignments.

"Not uncommon for me," she clarified. "Possibly others. I don't know. I have things I need to do..." The vaguely disjointed thoughts would have liked to be followed up with another attempt to move herself down the hall and return to the department to finish up, but instead they were proceeded by the sudden and unexpected sensation of having her feet removed from the ground. Her first instinct was to use the momentum of being lifted to quickly remove herself from the situation, but her body protested even the thought of movement after being so suddenly reoriented. Instead she remained silent and still, though a combative expression lingered on her features.

Luciole, having watched in amazement as her trainer was suddenly floating just like her, turned expenctantly at the sound of her name. "Okay!" Button, elevator, down - she had picked up enough of the vocabulary to be able to do that much. She proceeded to act according to the instructions, waiting near the elevator doors after doing so.

She could have objected, perhaps even wanted to object. Aila was no stranger to paperwork herself, even from before joining Team Rocket; she had been very organized and diligent with her research, especially after deciding to rely less on Izaya's leads and information. And, she imagined, if she were dealing with only paperwork, her constitution wouldn't have been so completely worn down. Even alongside her other duties, it wasn't so much that she couldn't handle it. The problem - grudging as she was to admit it, even mentally - was exactly as Izaya said: being unable to rest effectively left her unable to work effectively. But how could she be expected to sleep when plagued with worries of the trainee's longevity in the organization, of her own merit as an agent and a supervisor, of the education of the little legend assigned to her care, of-- everything? Even the thought of the thought was enough to melt her sour expression into one of quiet concern. There was so much she was responsible for; how could she hope to fulfill all of her obligations when such effort left her on the verge of on blacking out?

Luciole beamed at the compliment, watching the Rockets enter the elevator and moving to join them. "Follow!" she replied eagerly, but her sunny disposition was dampened by her trainer's objection.

"No, Luciole. Go back to the room, please." Luciole was enough of a handful to deal with on her own, and Aila didn't have nearly enough willpower to handle both her and Izaya.

"Don't wanna!" In a show of defiance, the Jirachi followed the pair into the elevator before the doors shut, smiling proudly at her accomplishment.

"Luciole, I wish you were in my room."

Even as a clone, the wishmaker's instinct was enough that Luciole couldn't deny an order phrased in such a manner, and her resulting bitter pout vanished with the rest of her as she teleported herself to the commanded location. If Aila's understanding was correct, the fulfillment of the single wish would be enough to leave the Jirachi too tired to wander for a while yet. She hoped she was correct.