[attr="class","illeana"]

[attr="class","illeana b"]

[attr="class","illeana i"]the offered hand is stared at, as if illeana cannot fathom why it's even for her. she... does know who she is, right? the uncomfortable similarity of the princely fashion they share -- sorry, shared? she knows luka from appearances but perhaps the knowledge is not shared among all parties.

her golurk's soft rumble behind her echoes enough for her to come to whatever sense still clings stubbornly in her mind. and after the clearing of her throat, the hand is taken.

she hauls herself up with a little too much force and quickly drops luka's hand as if it's made of acid. and with an awkwardness, she busies herself with brushing off whatever dirt could remain on her butt.

"sorry, my fault," she murmurs. it's soft, uncertain, just barely managing to get out of her throat even with force. "i, uh, got a bit too distracted looking for something."

and with that, she steps back. her golurk steps to allow her room to retreat... just as one of those damn dittos crawls around the corner at the end of the hall. she catches it mid-movement and scowls. how are blobs so goddamn fast?

luka chêne
double-d ditto

[attr="class","illeana"]

[attr="class","illeana b"]

[attr="class","illeana i"]her cheeks flush with an odd tinged embarrassment. it's not quite right, as if it's existing in an angry fluster more than anything.

and she's not quite sure where it comes from: the dittos escaping from her lab or that she can't even catch a damn blob without help from someone she would rather avoid.

well, it's not that she wants to avoid luka because of herself. that's not right, not in the way she means. there's a bitter sense of regret and jealousy, what ifs and what could have beens crumbled beneath pretty pink beauty and a kindness she couldn't even hope of having.

as the ditto escapes, transforming into something with hooves to high tail it away and luka offers all of her help and resources... illeana sees something in the too bright fluorescent lights overhead. the allure, the appeal, the reasons why Remiel Calcifet is so infatuated with the woman.

and god, it bothers her to no end in the worst, most hideous of ways.

"okay," she mumbles softly. there's little she can say to deter luka from helping, anyway. besides, strength in numbers, right? "there's, uh, four or five, i think, that got out." and they couldn't have gotten that far... she hopes.

luka chêne
double-d ditto

[attr="class","illeana"]

[attr="class","illeana b"]

[attr="class","illeana i"]"yeah," she murmurs. it really is a lot of dittos to lose... "they're only really used for analysis purposes but the league has a lot of them." perhaps in case an experiment goes wrong? she's not quite certain of the necessary number herself but they're helpful for comparisons in her field of work.

luka asks a good question, truthfully. what is the best way to capture them?

she hums through the thought process, levels of annoyance slowly eased away by the cogs of thinking. eventually, a soft answer escapes, "maybe holding them down long enough to get them back into their pokeballs? they're slippery, though."

it's awfully hard to get a good grip on their slimy blob form... as luka's lopunny quickly learns.

the darting liepard is tackled over in a heap of purple and pink fur. and as it quickly dissolves back into blob form, the grip on its body is slipping away. illeana yanks another pokeball from her belt and with a soft flash of light, a being settles at her side. the large owl ruffles its feathers out slightly, stifling a yawn.

"spirit shackle," she commands. "make sure the ditto doesn't escape, please."

robin hoot, her aptly named decidueye, lets out a soft hooting sound before shadows stretch toward the ditto trying to escape luka's lopunny. spirit shackle pins its shadow into place with relative ease. and as the ditto wiggles around for freedom, illeana begins to pull an empty pokeball out.

luka chêne
double-d ditto

[attr="class","illeana"]

[attr="class","illeana b"]

[attr="class","illeana i"]luka picks up on the plan with such a quickness it almost makes illeana's head spin. observing once is enough to practice the concept into easy perfection. and despite the tension lingering in corners like stubborn shadows, the scientist is impressed.

they are, unfortunately, harder to find than anticipated. the stubborn little blobs have managed to effectively hide themselves away and awkward silence falls from seconds into minutes. luka fills it with small talk, chirping along in a way illeana isn't used to. it settles against her skin, her face, her mind, and she doesn't give much besides uncomfortably short answers.

she should try to engage the woman more. really, it's the polite thing to do. and yet, she can't even manage it. she's bitter, resentful, caged. it's difficult to break out of the guarded place she's built up for herself. luka's efforts are, subconsciously, appreciated but no matter the attempts, there's still a distance illeana refuses to cross.

in another world, another time... perhaps they could be friends.

the thought dies as another ditto finally pops up. it's melting along the floor under a desk when luka's lopunny spots it. and quick thinking on luka's part enables the beginning of capture. at least, until the ditto begins to morph.

pidgey comes first. then, pikachu. and finally, luka herself.

a gasp escapes illeana as her companion latches onto her arm with a shriek and a noise akin to gagging. she stills beneath the contact, head snapping to luka's face. she looks for an explanation but all she finds is disgusted panic. and the breath she had been holding hostage finally escapes in a soft puff through the nose.

"hold on," she mumbles, half distracted by touch and the odd sight of luka with a ditto's face. the pokeball slips freely into fumbling fingers and it's thrown at the ditto with painful accuracy, hitting ditto!luka right in the nose before it disappears into the ball with a flash of light.

"there, it's gone."

luka chêne
double-d ditto