It is a familiar color that hangs in the air above them and paints the city in warmth and accentuates its charm in the final moments of daylight. With it comes the last hints of day, the faint traces of boots against the stone walkways, the whispers on the wind of people settling into their places as lazily as the sun settles on the horizon. It trickles over into quieting streets, as if seeking to hold on to its former home just a little longer before the quiet night can slip in between the stone, curl around the light of the lamps and take over the city.
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Rays of sun give way to the darkness, artificial light flickering to life as the moment passes. A small and silly notion meant to ward off the horrors of the dark, to light the way for tired and wayward feet. It never ceases to make her smile ever so softly with amusement.
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Though tonight it is also in part to the company she keeps. The chirping apple trailing behind her and the gentleman she has laced her fingers with is almost as amusing as humanity's need to give itself some false sense of security. Enough to pull her away from the window full of odds and ends that almost steals her away from them. Instead she holds his hand just a little bit tighter, something to anchor her to his side and keep her from drifting into the soon to be twinkling star sea above.
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"No more than two." the woman answers him as the parasol perched on her shoulder falls like a leaf from a tree to her side. A delicate motion if only because she insists on closing it one handed so as not to let go with her other and she manages just fine, having chosen one of her more delicate and fanciful ones for the evening. The floral pattern that dances around the lace work edge matches the trail of purple and pink blossoms sneaking down from her shoulder and past her waist to her ankles on a black field. A pleasant change from the sleek and plain attire she wears for work. Only the shawl draped around her shoulders fails to break away, as dark and inviting as the night sky.
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Amethyst eyes do not linger on him for long, a handsome distraction she must pull herself away from. Instead they come to linger on shop windows and store fronts, names sitting on her lips and tongue but not quite right. As if they don't yet fit the scene before them.

Remiel Calcifet i did it \ovo/

The sound of a stuttering heel is unfamiliar on her, sitting awkwardly beneath her pristine imagery. The flowers of her gown flutter but only for a moment as she rights herself without trouble and without hesitation. Where her companion is quickly off put by the behavior of the pokemon Isra seems to be unbothered. Such a small thing, her eyes are on him more so than his pokemon, smiling.
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Both at the look in his eyes and the simple fact she has relaxed enough to be caught off guard.
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A most unpleasant reminder of why she's here, an odd little whimsy that she cannot seem to get herself to deny. Unlike most everything else she tells herself no to.
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"I'm fine." a hint of a smirk on her lips, quickly hidden beneath a plain facade, one she wears all too often. "Perhaps you should try something other than commanding if that's not working."
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Isra lets go of his hand, turning to crouch in front of the pokemon for a moment. A second of silence is followed by the swift motion of picking the green apple up and cradling it in the same arm she hangs her parasol from. Only once it's settled does her free hand find his again and pull him away from their minor interruption.
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A sign still flickers open along the walk in front of them, and this time Isra does not hesitate to pull him with her towards the storefront in question. "That one looks interesting." and it seems, if only for a moment, whatever spell had her lost in her own head is broken and she surfaces again for him, as she finds she often does when their paths inevitably cross again.

Remiel Calcifet

Isra finds herself quite content with the little applin nestled in her arm, Remiel's hand in the other. A feeling that is almost foreign to her, something she has yet to be able to get used to in her moments of freedom from the many duties she finds fall on her shoulders. It seems almost like she could be happy about it. A silly notion certainly, but one that is sealed with the hint of a kiss on her lips before Remiel pulls her into the shop that has gotten her attention.
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She squeezes his hand as loudly as her heels click against the sidewalk before the tile of the store. A pleasant retort to the affection he gives her. The most she can muster.
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There is a moment where nothing in the shop could catch her attention nearly as well as he does, amethyst eyes linger on him before they move past him. Trailing along the items displayed on shelves and in cases, plenty of which could hold her attention awhile but none of them do.
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The notes are light, barely there, if they had not felt familiar she likely would not have noticed them. They draw her attention down the halls and isles, taking Remiel and his pokemon with her. She scans the items on display until she finds it, a small music box that's surely been wound and played more times than anyone knows but the man with his nose in his book.
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But even when she finds it, with its ebony sheen and ornate gold accents, dancing flowers taking the place of a twirling figure, she cannot name why it draws her to it. "Do you know this one?" she asks, looking back to him with curious stars in her eyes. The arm cradling the Applin holds him just a little closer.

Remiel Calcifet

She finds herself watching him closely, perhaps more than she intends. It cannot be helped, as she finds more and more that there is a melody in Remiel's movements that her eyes can see but her ears can't hear. Something smooth but unlike any she's seen or heard before. He is not quite piano keys but something almost like them.
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The more she watches him the less she can name it. Eyes return to the little box playing its little tune as she leans in towards him. The closeness of the gesture is nothing new as the woman often forgoes such boundaries in the company of others. The fact she grows closer to him just as much as the box is one she chooses to ignore. The comfort of his presence as she watches the flowers dance around the palm of his hand makes her hold onto the applin in a manner that's almost anxious. Her eyes meet his.
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"If I have" she trails off.
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There is an urge to reach out and touch but her hands are full of dragon apples and fingers that work too much and play too little. She cannot quite make herself let go of either as she leans against Remiel and must instead suffer the nonsense of her own feelings.
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"It... Sounds like something my father would have played." she says after much deliberation, eyes turning back to the little box. She remembers something dancing in the background but she cannot quite name what, only that it was enough to make her smile. Then again her father often did, the only one that saw her as a child. Her real father, at least.
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"I'm surprised to find such a thing here." she watching the dancing petals, a smile creeping into her lips and the twirl. "It just caught me by surprise." she states, as if to explain the small whimsy she felt compelled to answer the call of. Satisfied in witnessing it she looks to Remiel, waiting with something she can only call pleasant and calm.

Remiel Calcifet

He is so very warm.
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It is a feeling that the woman has only truly encountered in small doses in a childhood long left behind and better off forgotten. Even then it had never felt quite as comfortable as this, Remiel meeting her affection with his own. It is not brash and bold, this is something gentle and subtle.
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In the moment it lingers between them Isra finds she cannot create an answer in her head. Such a feeling, something so quaint and small a gesture is meant to be turned away. All her life has told her such, she is not meant for it, she is expected to look down on it as a weakness of humanity. Despite this Isra finds no want to lean away from him, the state of indifference expected of her does not exist here. It cannot be found.
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And thus, in such a moment, Isra finds herself at a crossroads she rarely ends up at. There is no script that fits her needs, her want, how she thinks she might like to answer in this moment. Nor can she entirely turn away from an upbringing, a teaching that is ingrained into her very core despite how much she already defies it. How much she thinks it has been taught wrong.
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"Alright." she answers stiffly, face blank as she tries to find the right self to be but settles on none of them because none of them are her to begin with. Everything sits all wrong but before the hint of flustered color can surface on her face she's turning away from him. Dragging him to the front of the shop to pay for the trinket. Focusing on the task is easier on her mind than trying to figure out what to think of the gesture, of how life says no and self says yes.
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She seeks to fill the space with something other than the fingers that now feel overwhelming in her hand. "You surprise me sometimes." she says without looking at him, because he is already like words jumbled into broken letters in her head.
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He surprises her right now, and caught up in that surprise she's oblivious to what else awaits them on the other side of the quiet little store.

Remiel Calcifet

Eyes go wide with alarm but she does not scream, he is gone from her side and the crashing sound is like thunder in her ears. She realizes all too late what sort of spell he puts on her, how the world became muffled with his hand in hers and now everything goes unnoticed until it's just a little too late.
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She turns with anger in her eyes and a whistle on her lips, sharp and cut short before she can summon her pokemon to her side. Her now empty hand reaches for her head as she flinches at the pokemon's attack. It is overwhelming and she grits her teeth to bare it, grip tightening on the pokemon in her grasp, desperate not to let him go. Isra keeps her eyes on the ground as the individual approaches, listening to his footsteps more so than anything else. Working her way through the throbbing now in her skull from the pokemon's attack. How she hates that feeling.
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When Isra looks up it's with fury in her eyes. "What of it?" she hisses, anger sinking deep into her features, the way her jaw clenches shut, the way her eyes narrow ever so slightly, fixating on the man in front of her.
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Isra takes a step back, seeking distance between the two of them, her eyes don't leave him. She says nothing else, she asks nothing of him. She doesn't really care for an answer. She only care to address the obvious threat he poses, that he has made of himself. Her fingers drum against the applin in her arm, it seems almost like a nervous tick. Like she might just feel like a rattata in a corner.
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There is only a split second where her eyes shift to Remiel and back again, unwilling to give the enemy too much opportunity when they have already had so much.
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She only bites because it seems like she has to. "What do you want?"

Remiel Calcifet

Despite the obnoxiousness of his tongue Isra listens nonetheless, paying attention to whatever it is he's willing to say. A brow quirks at his joke but it's as much of a reaction as he'll get out her. Amethyst eyes have gone cold, watching him something even more so as he moves through the isles for Remiel and his pokemon. Though she's been involved up until this point it had not truly hit home to her what sort of situation she was getting caught up in until now. It makes itself apparent, no longer just words in a book and on the tip of someone's tongue.
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"No, he hasn't." she lies, the venom on her tongue may help to cover it, may make it seem more obvious. She can't be sure, she detests it and it leaves a sour taste in her mouth but she's unwilling to let him know anything. "So what, you're here for his pokemon?" her tone turns accusatory, almost condescending, as if she can't believe that's all this is about. It seems like such a waste, her evening spoiled over something they could have gotten elsewhere. It seems especially true with how she watches him plucking the balls away and pocketing them like he has a right to them.
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Her fingers continue to tap against the applin, ever so slightly, nervous she must be for it to be so persistent. After all, she's stuck between quite the rock and the hard place, one is particularly obnoxious and the other has an advantage not so easily overcome. Just about anyone would be, wouldn't they?
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Something flickers at the end of the isle, something most might not even see, not without knowing to look for it. [break]

Remiel Calcifet