[attr="class","isratalk"]

Her hand pauses in the air over the flowers, he steals her adornment and there is a split second where she nearly lashes out. To take back a gift once given is unbecoming but her braid is filling fast and so she chooses to leave it be. Her wooloo is not as willing to let things go. Small hooves clop closer to the plant with caution, another bleat of greeting hoping to get... something.

"Thank you. I think." given the context she's not entirely sure if it's a compliment or not. He is not, however, wrong.

Amethyst eyes jump to the hair over her shoulder, scanning it for vacant crevices, fingers dance across the decorative surface to do the same. Soon bright blue reaches the top of the murkrow's nest, making an ocean colored bed for her plum moon. "How is it an easy way to hate yourself? There are much more potent reasons for someone to hate themselves."

Other, better ones that she might understand.

elijah gardner <3

[attr="class","ipc19"]

[attr="class","isratalk"]

Amusement turns to appreciation at the gentlemanly greeting, she expects no less and he dares not disappoint. Before anything further can be said however, the other voices his concerns and Isra cannot contain herself.

It's an almost hearty laugh that by no means fits the scene. How very silly, she thinks. His words tell a tale of accusations and suspicion, as if he had any need or right to either. "Was I supposed to?" something devilish drips from the curve of lips as her eyes settle on the scientist. In the wake of recognition she is a cheshire cat settling into its fur and readying to enjoy the entertainment.

"If you know what that name means Gavin, you've no need to be so worried."

"Besides you already fell once and survived just fine now didn't you?" there's a subtle gentleness to her voice, a guiding lilt trailing to the implication. Slateport, late evening coffee and compelling conversation. Two ghosts go unseen, and none would have blinked twice if one had gone missing. So why bother worrying?

The gentle click of heels is indifferent to the situation, whatever tension or otherwise might be settling between them does not reach the woman as she takes to the lounge chair Remiel had previously occupied. As the woman settles in her banette makes an appearance on the arm facing the window, placing himself between her and what was left of the sunlight. On leg crosses over the other, a slow and deliberate motion meant to draw attention.

The woman is undeniably relaxed. "How has your alcremie been since last we spoke? Is she finally settling down?" her eyes settle on the blond, one hand motioning for him to relax as well.

Remiel Calcifet Cillian Quinn

[attr="class","isratalk"]

"(f)Mudkip -Torrent (gacha)"

eeeee ty darling more bats for her little collection <3

[attr="class","isratalk"]

A spectre slips through the streets of Rustboro, walking on shadows in the dying light. The curiosity of her evening to come sits pleasantly on the tip of her tongue, making her smile.

Gloved fingers reach for a door, quiet and delicate and slow. The shadow slips in behind her with ease and nearly unseen. They share the space for a moment, gathering their barrings in the quaint little shop they've been led to. There is familiarity in the oddities as her parasol closes and hangs from her wrist. Relics of a time gone by and Isra feels the pull and push to wonder through them. Perhaps if she did not think her company might miss her if she took too long she would.

The old man catches her wondering eye and asks if she'd like to take a look, it's almost a shame to shake her head but she smiles sweetly and thanks him for the offer. Their exchange is short, sweet and once she's directed up stares she wishes him a good evening in the lower part of the store. There is a subtle gesture as she removes the first of her gloves, the banette's shadow returns to him, coiling beneath his feet.

It is, as always, the steady click of heels on the steps that announce her presence, no longer dampened by the shadow that walks beside her. Her gloves tuck away in the front pocket of her coat, a break away from the shawls she normally wears in the hours of the night, much like the dress pants and heeled boots she sports to avoid the only thing that restricts her actions.

Isra finds herself coming upon a dramatic scene, it seems they have been talking plenty while waiting for her and the amused grin on her face pairs perfectly with the barely-there chuckle. The shadow of her ghost slips out at ever sliver of the light that might peak through the window, ensuring they never reach her.

"Well, this should be interesting. Seems you two have been having fun without me though." she comments by way of greeting, familiar faces leave less room than normal for formalities.

Remiel Calcifet Cillian Quinn

[attr="class","isratalk"]

The creature is making a ruckus from above, hanging in the treetops of the path to fortree and Isra grimaces at the sound. An obnoxious break in the ambiance of the path on an otherwise quiet spring evening.

The whistle is sharp, calling the beast at her command to action. She does not look at the fire it spits from its maw, coating its teeth in fire. She does not listen as it sinks its teeth in, she does look to see what the pokemon does.

Isra only enjoys the quiet that takes over again, when all is said an done. Only broken by the sound of wings in the air above.

>>passing

[attr="class","isratalk"]

"I'm not confused Fernando." she comments idly, scanning the pages as they talk, skimming for the keywords that matter so she gets the general idea before delving deeper. Taking the time to read things in full where she feels the need to. There's was in deed a lot going on. Well beyond the ultra beasts, the damage to the night market, the entire event had been a mess. "This all just seems very.... messy."

Isra pauses over the report detailing a part of the incident that occurred after the the beast had been fought, taking the time to read it in full. She pulls a sticky note pad out from the top drawer of the desk, leaving herself a small scrawled note with a pent hat she quickly folds and tucks into her bag. Not terribly unusual, she often leaves notes to get the days newspaper and compare what the two differing accounts of an incident say. More for awareness than anything else.

The taps against the desk, a familiar rhythm. "Do we have an update on the condition of the commissioner?" she asks, flipping backwards through the papers to another one, rereading a paragraph as if something catches her eye the second time around.

FERNANDO SILPH

[attr="class","isratalk"]

"I can admire the fact you are doing so anyway." it's a genuine sentiment. She holds a personal preference for the sort of people who at least make the attempt rather than writing themselves off.

He continues, and what he says comes as no surprise. "It's never ending isn't it?" it's a gentle chuckle void of mirth, a social gesture and nothing else. The smile is solemn, a well practiced face slipping onto porcelain skin. "I think most of the building has been that way as of late, those creatures have brought many concerns to the forefront." she's surprisingly calm about it.

"Perhaps you can ask FERNANDO SILPH to borrow me one of these evenings for a little while. I'm no good in a lab but I'm rather efficient at paper work. Maybe such an arrangement can help clear your desk of some of the more mundane stuff." she offers, she does not mind the idea of having more to do.

Lucas Lane
>>pass

[attr="class","isratalk"]

Isra & river r1 done
I believe they are both in other rounds already
But feel free to give isra another if yah can!

[attr="class","isratalk"]

The salamence is a newer addition to her growing team and without hesitation Isra takes to the beast. She and it soon find each other mutually obnoxious but undeniably strong willed. It has taken more time than she would like bu the beast has been reigned in, walking at her side with lumbering footfalls as they make their way down the path.

Eager to give the pokemon a chance she releases him to do as he pleases, waiting to watch and see what he makes of the freedom outside and beyond the domain she had given him. He's fiery and determined, and she cannot wait to see and decide what to make of him.

>>solo wild

[attr="class","isratalk"]

She mulls over his response, more a dissection of the mentality that might lead to it than anything else as Gavin continues to talk. She herself has little interest, in the parts of science that must be conducted and much more in the final results, the data on the paper. The information that experimentation leads to and the numbers that can be easily crunched in her head and devoured like candy.

Isra is content to let someone like him acquire it, so long as she kind find a way for it to be fed to her. So long as he keeps talking she gets the part she cares about. "So you avoid immediate gratification then?" she can admire it, both it at the mentality he's exhibited so far. There is much to be had in both patience and impatience, tenacity and flexibility, things that ought to be exhibited in the right moments and cast aside for something better when no longer useful.

Then again, Isra is a woman that wears her personality more like another garment than as a self of any kind.

"Only if what you have now says it is so." she comments with a hint of a grin. "How much have you delved into such an idea? It's interesting, and may serve to further the other side of the coin just as well. Knowing what effects either must surely influence both." because the world is rarely so isolated as for that to be anything less than true. Or perhaps, it is just her own abstract thinking that makes it so.

Cillian Quinn

[attr="class","isratalk"]

He gives her an answer she doesn't quite expect, foreseeing someone detailing to her the charms and whims of the event that she won't understand in the slightest. His answer? His answer she understands, even if she cannot understand why he keeps the pokemon that he does at his side. Even the wooloo that trots along beside her seems apprehensive about saying hello. The wool covered creature offers a tentative though long winded bah of greeting anyway.

"Oh, well thank you Elijah, feel free to call me Isra."

Perhaps to his dismay Isra is quick to begin pulling apart the bouquet, slender fingers deftly plucking the stalks apart like strings on a harp. She doesn't give him a chance to deny her the whimsy that takes over her actions, breaking down the delicate flowers until she can pull her braid over her shoulder and tuck them into its nooks and crannies to adorn it for the rest of the night. "I don't see the appeal of... hook up apps either though."

"Do people really use those kinds of things? they seem so silly."

elijah gardner