illie, sap sipper
she/her
27
september 23rd
snowpoint city, sinnoh
bi curious
geneticist, alchemist
head professor
you caged me and then you called me crazy; i am what i am 'cause you trained me.
TAG WITH @illeana
illeana reyes
STAR SOIREE
POSTED ON Sept 6, 2021 21:34:54 GMT
[attr="class","illie"] [attr="class","illie b"] [attr="class","illie i"]she blinks, the consequences of her choice prying at her shoulders with bony fingers. heat rises to a familiar degree between them, almost reminiscent of groudon's artificial sun. she counters it by bleeding pink, mist swirling from bare skin and forcing the air into a soothing atmosphere. Stormy Silph's gone before she can open her mouth, before she can apologize for being tied up. and then FERNANDO SILPH's speaking, chiming in with his own two cents. she turns her head away from the retreating figure of stormy to regard him with a neutral expression. if she had to place her emotions, perhaps she'd place them in an odd sort of array. she doesn't, however, and they're left to rot. "i'm not sure if that'd make it better or worse," she offers, then. part of her recognizes the part she's playing in this and part of her doesn't. there's things she doesn't understand, doesn't want to be involved in. she'll leave it for him to sort out with a futile hope that it'll all work out. naivety still clings to her, stubborn and unwavering. Killian Decker departs as well, leaving her alone with fernando. somehow, she prefers it this way. things are easier one on one, not torn between bodies and attention. her shoulders begin to relax, tension easing as he begins to guide her toward the dance floor. her smile has returned by now, brightening her features with something more carefree. "you lead," she murmurs. "i'll follow." such is their relationship after all, right? he pulls her in, keeps her close. she shivers beneath a professional touch, almost as if she knows how different it feels to others. her own hands rise, settle, hold. is now a bad time to mention she's not the best dancer? yes. faintly, mew stirs atop her head but never leaves. not yet, not until the song is done. it merely sweeps little toes across her shoulder and readjusts. if she had to guess, the little baby probably just yawned. so cute. star soiree. outfit hehemew sleeps, hopes everything gets resolved eventually, follows fern to the dance floor, pls lead we can't dance
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