MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW

[attr="class","isratalk"]

Isra is delighted when he agrees, less so by the vendor's choice to try and keep up his charade. At this point she thinks he's getting what he deserves, seeing the look of the Espeon when it emerges she thinks he deserves worse than that. If it were up to her she'd let her dragons terrorize him, a taste of his own medicine. If only the setting were different.

But it would seem Remiel is intent on keeping her attention, fingers curling around his sweater as the chill settles into the area around the stall. There is a difference between a natural and unnatural cold, one that Isra knows well. The cold is invigorating, this is no different. He manages again to leave a spark of interest in her, something that seems inevitable at this point. Things to bring up after.

"Three for the three tries I was supposed to have right?" she grins, hand releasing Remiel's sweater and stepping back to look up at the prizes. A slender finger taps her lip in thought as she decides, though there's no real contest. The only one she has to think about is the third one and spotting a small little plushie in the line up she grins.

"Banette, Froslass and...." she glances over at her dark haired counterpart and his little cup of tea, almost as if they hadn't been something so menacing mere moments ago. Not forgotten but not capable of rocking her boat either. "That little sinistea one you've got hiding in the electric types over there." There's no hiding the source of the influence.

Isra anticipates that the psychic type will be expected to bring them down from where they hang, and she's content to let it leave them on the counter because before they go she has something she feels compelled to do. The woman doesn't hesitate for a moment to hop up on the counter, swinging her legs over it with obvious care to the fact she's in a dress and hop down behind the stall. She couldn't care less for the vendor, ignoring him entirely as she approaches the Espeon. A hand digs around in the bag hidden under her shawl and finds the treats she always carries. It's a small offering for what it must go through daily, she spares a moment to rub its ears and offer it an affection it rarely receives. It's evident in the flinching.

It is a feeling she knows, to be a creature in a cage. Perhaps that is why she finds it so easy to all but ignore her curiosities about Remiel and leave her prizes behind for the moment. She knows what a small moment such as this means because no amount of raising her to hate it has ever been enough to make her truly believe it does not have its place just like everything else.

Remiel Calcifet

MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW

[attr="class","isratalk"]

Rarely so impulsive it is only after the fact that she realizes how she'd made a very poor decision. Normally one to avoid anything that might catch too much attention or make a scene she realizes they have done exactly that, eyes prying away from the Espeon at Remiel's approach and looking up at him. She is not so oblivious to herself as to not think it's possible she's feeding off of him, something she does with most people, but this is most unexpected.

Isra senses that the scene is complete and stands, reaching out for Remiel just as she had before. Her hand settles on his back to get his attention back on her. The even look on her face should be enough to imply it was time to leave but if he looked for any sign of disapproval he wouldn't find any. Isra found she quite enjoyed his willingness to do something, even if it had produced much more excitement than she had initially bargained for.

With a whistle her watchful companion slips from the midplane, claiming her little prizes for her before disappearing into the backdrop he lurks from. The woman trusts him to resume his post tailing her when she moves her hand from her gentleman's back to his hand, fingers lacing together again just as before, and pulls him away from the scene. She walks with no real direction in mind, distance being of the utmost importance in that moment with the knowledge that any who might pay too close attention to them will find shadow licking at their heels, ensuring the pair will go undisturbed.

The woman lets silence settle between them, because when she deems it worthy to be she is surprisingly patient. Though she lets it hang between them in a stark contrast to the festival ambiance on either side of them she does not find it uncomfortable. There is a stillness in her silence that is neither expectant nor unsettled, only waiting. Isra is watchful, and only speaks when she is certain he's not so riled up.

"Well, you're a bit more exciting than what I was expecting." she teases with a matching grin. "We'll start with the easy question." she's quiet, wanting to keep the conversation between just the two of them. Whether he likes it or not he's given her plenty of questions to ask.

"I'm assuming you're one of Hoenn's favorite trouble makers, or are you just a very determined hoodlum?" In truth, she probably shouldn't be so playful about her inquiry, but to ask indirectly is in her nature, especially when you could never be sure which ears were listening a little too close.

Remiel Calcifet

MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW

[attr="class","isratalk"]

"Yes, you are." Isra states, quite decisively. Almost as if she had made a final decision on him because in a way she had. Though it was not a full answer to one of the many in her head a partial one led to the rest. There was always much more to learn than one could in the short time they had met, but it did not change the fact that he got something out of her most people never did.

There is another moment of quiet after that, during which Isra contemplates his answer. A very clear play off her own question, something she had expected to a degree even if she had been hoping for something more definitive. He hasn't seen enough of her to know to expect anything less than her playing along, regardless of what he might suspect Isra settles on changing her tune for a more direct approach.

Isra changes her stride to step out in front of him, turning to face him and if he stops short he'll soon find her unnecessarily close when she steps into him. She deliberately seeks to put almost no space in between them, eyes on his when she speaks again. "Perhaps I do, perhaps I don't." the shrug is slight, but there. Isra is indifferent to his 'tasks'. "Those are neither here nor there."

"There are two ways we can play this Remiel." she continues. "We can either dance around each other the rest of the night which I have all night to do and I doubt you can say the same. Or, you can answer my question and we can get this over with and go back to enjoying the rest of the night." by no means is she demanding, but there is something surprisingly firm in her tone while she speaks, hidden beneath a layer of frank politeness.

"You're either a member of rocket, or a member of something else." and Isra likes knowing what she's getting into.



Remiel Calcifet

MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW

[attr="class","isratalk"]

Her gaze is almost overbearing as she watches him, waiting for him to say something. He reaches over her and hair stands on end, instinctively aware of the increasing closeness but she doesn't move, she doesn't give him any reaction at all. Eyes don't leave his until they're barely in view, following the movement, down the contour of his neck to his shoulder. They settle there, listening for the small nuances of his voice when he speaks:

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know..."


"but I suppose satisfaction brought it back..."


"Executive."


Her forehead touches his shoulder, but only for a moment, an instinctive need to hide before pulling back. She's laughing. It's not mocking it's not fake, it's surprisingly and undeniably happy.

"How beautifully dramatic of you."

She means it, in the best way possible.

"That was very well done."

She likes his style.

"Next," she makes a point to lean in, lips brushing his ear ever so slightly. A purposeful tease, simply because she could. (Or perhaps a warning, too close, watch yourself.) "What exactly were you planning to do back there to that vendor?" she pauses, but only for a moment.

"It's not that cold tonight."

Remiel Calcifet

MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW

[attr="class","isratalk"]

It's hard to say what Isra expected but this is not it. His fingers flutter away from her's and land on her side with the last thing she anticipates. Tenderness is surprising and she despises the sensation that crawls across her skin from it, the fact he pulls it out of her, how she knows it will eat at her the rest of the night and yet she allows it. Her now free hand seeks somehow to go and finds itself on top of the hand at her side, whether its to keep his hand there or so she can pull it away at a moments notice is up for debate, for now it only serves as a reason for her to stay still when he leans back until his face is both too close and not close enough to her's.

Her eyes return to his, seeking them out beneath black bangs and the longer he stays so close the more it bothers her. He speaks and it makes the almost-there between them intoxicating. Little does he know he's found one of her favorite things and she withholds the smile that tries to tug at her lips. She prefers committing just his to memory. She gives him nothing more than a small hum of approval at his coyness, the words of his suggestion tumble around in her head for a moment before she quietly decides he has missed the point of her question, though perhaps not entirely. She knows what he did but it paints a picture incomplete in her head and it bothers her.

The woman only moves because his eyes break away from her's and she tilts her head ever so slightly looking to find them again. He returns them to her willingly and he'll find she's not so unwilling to accept his words. They are something she will mull over later, when she is seeking something to entertain her mind, picking them apart to see more than the surface of them that she sees now.

Isra is silent, when he pulls away from her and the absence of him is noticeable now even if it's only for a moment before his hand is in her's again and he pulls her back in close to him. She doesn't speak still, watching him too close and waiting. Only with the crashing of drums and cheering does she realize how she's allowed herself to become too focused on him, forgetting the rest of the world around them.

She does not answer right away. Pushing aside the weight he's left behind with his presence. "I do wish to question you further." interrogate sounds far too aggressive, she thinks. "But that can wait, I would hate to leave what we started unfinished after all."

"Besides, I think I like the idea of having an excuse to speak with you again." it is the same well practiced grin as always, but somewhere bellow that is something a little bit mischievous, like perhaps she means it just a little bit.

Remiel Calcifet

MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW

[attr="class","isratalk"]

The way he chooses his words stand out to her, there's something in his eyes that she catches but hesitates to name. It's only when he squeezes her hand that it makes sense in her head but it's not just now. It's all the way back to the beginning of the night. How he had pulled the seat out for her, patting it like he simply insisted she join him. He'd been happy to see her.

Isra smiles because she was right, she wasn't going to get rid of Remiel Calcifet any time soon.



They grow closer to the source of the drumming and the sound is almost overbearing. She finds herself distracted by the beat, following the pattern in the sound until she finds it easy to follow and another distracts her mind. Eyes flit about the scene from one thing to another, watching it both perplexed and amazed.

It's so all together new to her in a way that leaves her feeling like she's drowning in curiosity. She wants to inquire about too much but that could take hours to answer. (She'll save that for later, for a day she cannot sleep on and she'll spend hours looking for information,feeding the constant need to know) The dancing in particular seems to attract her attention. Watching the movements, eyes tracking them with a familiar look, taking note of every little movement.

"What do you see?" she looks at him, a little surprised by his question and not entirely sure how to answer. It almost feels too vague and she wonders if that is one purpose. She wouldn't be surprised if it is.

"Something that doesn't belong to us." She's a little quiet, like she's not entirely certain of her answer. Almost hoping he doesn't because it is something she doesn't expect anyone to understand. "Warmth and celebration." and it is fascinating. It strikes her with an interest she's been told much of her life to never pursue. Isra opens her mouth again to say something and hesitates, because she thinks by experience that what comes to mind next will only end awkwardly.

"Trespassers in the night. But perhaps..." she watches the colored ribbons, eyes tracking their movements. "They belong here a little bit too."

"What about you?"

Remiel Calcifet

MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW