"honestly?" she says as she half-stands to stoop into an embrace. "me too. i haven't been here in a long time." she's had no inclination to, though she supposes she should probably make an effort to get to know the city's local gym leader. 

granted, the last and only time they'd met has still left a sour taste in her mouth. 

"it's new to the both of us then." she quirks a smile. "speaking of new, you wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the call i received from the commissioner today, would you? regarding a council seat?"

ALEXANDER STONE

☉

"you're incorrigible," she says with a huff, suspicions confirmed at his smile. she was angry, at first, when the realization hit. angry that he took it upon himself to protect her. angry that he took her hand out of the equation. 

and then she started thinking about king. and delta. 

he asks if she accepted and instead she says, "i had a conversation with...someone a few weeks back." out on the water, one of her mother's dragalge resting their head in her lap. "she asked me if i knew the true meaning of strength."

a quirk of her lips. "can you guess what i said?"

ALEXANDER STONE

☉

"not even one little guess?" her coffee has cooled for the most part, but it's still pleasantly sweet. she takes a small sip and then brushes the milk foam from her lips. 

"i told her strength is knowing when to ask for help." she looks down at the cappuccino mug. it's big in her cupped hands. "there will always be bigger dragons. impossible odds. but even the impossible is manageable with people to rely on."

she finally sets the mug down and twists in her chair to dig through her bag. a roll of parchment is placed between them.

"but an edge never hurts. i need you to build this for me."

ALEXANDER STONE

☉

"mhm," she says, giving him a withering look. his teasing will only worsen if she dare tell him just how many dragons strong they are now. granted, she'll admit half the horde isn't battle ready - at least, not up to morningstar standards. they need proper training regiments, feeding schedules, and more. 

but now's not the time to worry about that. 

her fingers hesitate on the furled paper. she's no artist by any means. her mother held that title; not her. but it's a dumping of all of her thoughts out on one page. scrawled notes in the margins say things like:

cape - fireproof? bottom cape/skirt. wings? glider.

claws - easier than punching

bowblade - circhester, galar. bow -> blade -> bow

"i thought i'd rather you try to make sense of it than me continue to attack the page like this," she says and smiles sheepishly.  

ALEXANDER STONE

☉

"don't be rude," she says primly and admires her own handiwork. his fingertips trace the curves and lines, the scratched notes all around, and she can feel the gears turning. his ingenuity turning her flimsy designs into something less abstract. 

eventually, something tangible. 

she cocks a brow. "i'll be overseeing the region's combat preparedness.

"i'll be on the frontlines more often than not." and hoenn is always at war. 

ALEXANDER STONE

☉

"the suit is meant to support the needs of its user," she rebuttals, glancing aside. if she's going to go into the fire, she wants to come out unscathed. she's tired of having the odds stacked against her. she's tired of losing. she's tired of not being enough. 

"there's no one else i trust with this, alex, but if it's...too much - " her gaze flickers back up, soft now, "i can find someone else."

ALEXANDER STONE

☉