[attr="class","illeana"]

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

[attr="class","illeana i"]it's reminiscent, perhaps, of a cool autumn night in october on lantern-lit streets with unfamiliar company and the incessant urge to lose oneself in a massed crowd.

she finds herself leaning back into the concept with a newfound need. the desire to disappear among a sea of faces is too strong to ignore anymore. she's long since given up on fighting it, anyway.

fireworks pop and crackle overhead.

she pauses every now and then to drag her eyes upward, chin lifting toward constellations hidden behind fading fireworks and the smoke they leave behind. and she has to admit... they really are beautiful.

they do little to drag that festive spirit out of her bones, though. it's a pity but she can't shake the slight frown or the way her expression pinches with worry at the edges.

and as her stomach grumbles for food, she drifts on autopilot to a nearby stall. a woman with blonde hair and a discolored roselia linger nearby on a bench, chatting quietly amongst each other. the woman's voice causes a pause in step, as if it's familiar yet unknown. it feels specific to this town, to these streets...

to a night like this where one can be anonymous and tucked away from the rest of the world without consequence.

it causes her to turn, to settle red eyes onto the woman. there's mild recognition but it's lost, jumbled behind frazzled thoughts and sleepless nights.

and the question claws itself out of her throat without little warning, blurted out into the open air around them.

"are -- um, do you happen to live around here?"

she pries for information to piece the masked woman and her ghost back together in her mind as if it's second nature and not at all rude to intrude on their personal conversation.

Elisabeth Fiorelli

[attr="class","illeana"]

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

[attr="class","illeana i"]there it is again, that nagging familiarity.

she feels it build a little further, as if the tempo is picking up toward a crescendo.

"no."

it comes out sudden, lingering heavily like the changing of a mind. she looks to overwrite it quickly.

"you... just reminded me of someone i met here before, i suppose."

and she feels it sounds a bit odd to say, to bother an unsuspecting woman and her roselia on a hunch and a conversation faded into the time of months passed.

the woman from october had been somewhat of a local too, hadn't she? tethered to this place by a business...

she remembers the faint smell of flowers, the way it seemed to follow the woman and not the festival itself. she sniffs for it now out of habitual testing but the memory has faded any hint of that scent out of her body.

it's back to square one, then: more probing.

"i think she had a flower shop by the woods, actually."

she tries, in vain, to not think of flowers withering away on a dining room table or the man who left them there. and the question she asks, then, is out of her own mind's desperation to find a distraction to sink teeth and claws into until everything else is etched over with something new.

"do you know the shop, by any chance?"

Elisabeth Fiorelli

[attr="class","illeana"]

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

[attr="class","illeana i"]oh.

she blinks, gears churning in the mind.

and the name slips out like a soft question, uncertain but seeking stable footing.

"elisabeth?"

it'd sure be awkward if she wasn't, in fact, the masked woman she had met prior...

the floral scent is similar, though, and she claimed the flower shop as her own. besides, how many florists could possibly be in petalburg woods?

she flashes a small, awkward smile.

"are you enjoying this event, then?"

a little gasp escapes once the pink rose is extended, the gesture warm and kind and successful in catching her by surprise. she takes the flower gently, fingers lightly brushing elisabeth's. it is tucked behind her ear, holding some of her hair and keeping it out of her face for now.

"thank you, that's very kind of you."

Elisabeth Fiorelli

[attr="class","illeana"]

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

[attr="class","illeana i"]"yes, i'm flattered you remember me."

and really, she is. it's nice to be remembered as herself, not a title or a means to an end.

her smile turns warm.

"i'm glad... it's a lovely night for this, too."

not too cloudy, not too cold. perfect, actually.

she flushes easily beneath teasing and a curious question. she supposes she does happen to be around petalburg more often than not nowadays.

"oh, uh, my boyfriend lives here, actually."

and yet, he's nowhere in sight. her cheeks heat further beneath realization.

"it's quieter here than lilycove, too. it's hard to not be fond of that."

the scientist is blissfully unaware of the roselia's reaction, too absorbed in conversation to allow her eyes to wander. perhaps if she had, she could have dispelled some of the animosity...

Elisabeth Fiorelli

[attr="class","illeana"]

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

[attr="class","illeana i"]a light flush creeps into her skin, a rosy dusting across cheeks as her lips curl into an almost fond smile.

"it's possible you have! i think --"

her words are cut short as elisabeth, too, stops to attend to her roselia. the scientist's eyes follow, smile widening.

"oh, no no it's okay. i don't mind at all."

as if to further the concept, a hand idly waves any sense of bother out of the air.

and she steps a little closer, happy to nod and accept the invitation.

"sure, i'd love to tag along! although, i don't think he'll be attending... he's not big on social events like this."

perhaps if she really pleaded or put on her best puppy dog eyes, Felix Gallagher would cave.

for now, however, she's alone and clinging to the sunshine that she envisions elisabeth as.

"does she have a favorite pokeblock?"

Elisabeth Fiorelli

[attr="class","illeana"]

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

[attr="class","illeana i"]she flashes an almost fond smile.

"bitter, hm? do you know how to make your own pokeblock?"

as shown in their last encounter, elisabeth is a woman of many talents. not only a decorated florist but also a craftswoman with sewing. perhaps she also has a knack for the hoennian delicacy.

and quickly, like clockwork, another question pops up.

"has she tried poffins yet?"

a sinnohian treat... somehow, it's the only thing she knows how to make besides mac n cheese.

the berries begin to mix in the blender in front of them. and her eyes drift away to find elisabeth's as a question comes.

"he enjoys movie nights."

she can't count the amount of times they've stayed in and watched movies tangled up in each other instead of breaching their found peace to venture outside into crowded streets. each time, she's a little more thankful he's taken up the position of her person.

"although, he's been more willing to go out if i ask lately. we did the bar crawl for new year's... oh, and the masquerade too! he had to work most of it, but it was still nice."

she counts it as a win in her book, really.

Elisabeth Fiorelli

[attr="class","illeana"]

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

[attr="class","illeana i"]her eyes sparkle just a little at the mention of kalosian food, honing in on the baking part in particular.

"do you make macarons?"

they're her favorite...

"i might have a poffin recipe or two laying around at home if you wanted to try it out sometime!"

the only decent thing that came from her mother, she thinks, is her recipe book. it has not gotten much use, however, for it is wasted on illeana and her abysmal cooking skills.

perhaps elisabeth would put it to better use.

"oooh, reading with someone is so relaxing too."

unfortunately...

"i've been a bit too busy to really dive into another book, though, so mindless tv shows have been the placeholder for now."

and with the masquerade question, she flashes a bright smile.

"yes, it was such a lovely event. i even loaned some pieces from my lab for one of the exhibits!"

her eyes turn a bit curious, then, as they refocus on elisabeth.

"did you attend as well?"

Elisabeth Fiorelli