Not-Chryssa
She/Her
27
May 1
Eterna City, Sinnoh
Panromantic
radio host
agent
as flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport
TAG WITH @chryssa
chryssa glasgow
CEASEFIRE [s]
POSTED ON Jan 27, 2021 13:43:30 GMT
“Oho?” The girl asked, leaning forward to match him. Her long, straight hair fell around her shoulders like flowing sand, so close that it brushed against his collar. Her eyes gleamed. “So you accept? Very well, Hive King. Here are the three boons I crave.”There was a pause for suspense. The pause kept going. It began to stretch uncomfortably long. After a minute or so, Chryssa’s lips moved, muttering something imperceptibly. “Rending. Lending? Distending. Sorry, I’m thinking,” she said more audibly, sitting back and crossing her arms over her chest. “I need to make it rhyme.” These things had to be delivered with style, after all .“...Okay, I’ve got it!” she said a few minutes later, resuming her intense eye contact mere inches from her rival’s face. She hummed low in her throat, setting the mood. She held up three fingers, and her voice came in a throaty whisper. “Find me a song where you never hear the ending. Find me a bond that binds without bending, And find me a silence that resists all pretending.” Chryssa finished, but she did not relax. Her eyes searched him, neutral. “When you find these things, John Douglas Sullivan, you might understand me enough to reconsider. As for me...” The girl hesitated, showing a moment of vulnerability. Her hands twisted in her lap. “I’m... content to wait.” She stood up suddenly, having finished her panini. “Thank you for the date. I think it’s time to get back to the festival. I have another match to meet.” Before he could offer to walk her back or protest her sudden exit, Chryssa tossed out a Pokeball. A huge, yellow-eyed Claydol materialized behind her like a magnified eclipse, casting an owl-shaped shadow across the ground. Face in shadow, Chryssa turned back to Doug. Her insides squirmed. Though he might not understand yet—or worse, he did— she’d revealed more about herself than she had since coming to the island region. Things she wasn’t comfortable thinking about. She didn’t want to know how he’d react. Not yet. “I did warn you I was planning my escape,” she said lightly as the chalked symbols on the Claydol’s chest began to glow, signaling a Teleport. She turned to face him, expression strange, searching. “This was fun. But it won’t happen again. Not for awhile, anyway.”The world skewed up and down, stretching like a piece of pulled taffy. The image of the girl and Claydol thinned, becoming streaked and insubstantial. Her voice was soft, but firm. “Three tasks. I’ll be waiting.” And she was gone, leaving behind only a crumpled panini wrapper and a plastic bag.
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