[attr="class","wildpkmn"]

[attr="class","wildtag"]illeana reyes

[attr="class","wildnote"]WHAT WILL YOU DO?

[attr="class","illie i"]it turns out a little further turns into a lot further.

no distance is crossed, no advancements made. instead, she finds herself staring at the beginnings of a purple body drifting out of the darkness. and while she should be surprised, the appearance of a ghost slinking from shadows is no longer new. given their destination, their path toward airing grievances, she expected nothing less.

and yet, there's almost a taste of disappointment in her mouth. instead of teal clay, it's purple sheets and a pointy hat. she tries to mask it with an expression of indifference, of nonchalance. it seeps through regardless but her golurk doesn't mind. the automaton mirrors her sentiments with a low rumble. funny, it almost sounds like a warning.

the shuppet gives them a curious look before drifting off in another direction. shadows swirl back around it, welcoming it like an old friend, and the presence is soon fading away from their realm of orbit. a sigh escapes and clay limbs begin lumbering forward once more. perhaps this time, they'll at least make it a few feet before another interruption halts their progress.

[attr="class","wildpkmn"]

[attr="class","wildtag"]illeana reyes

[attr="class","wildnote"]WHAT WILL YOU DO?

[attr="class","illie i"]eventually, something shifts and bends until progress comes to fruition. instead of steps, however, it's the appearance of another creature.

this one is touched by the harsh fingers of climate change, painted pale and lifeless. a ghost, a shell of a former life. funny, she could see herself in the branches of its body. what was once peach colored and lively is now ghastly white and hollow. is it a metaphor? life throwing her a similar creature to her state of mind? hm, perhaps.

or, better yet, it's a chance at something she doesn't know yet.

the woman leans over from her perch and her gaze softens enough to show glimpses of herself. beneath her, the golurk rumbles in greeting. while it isn't another automaton, not the one they had been wishing for, neither of them are necessarily as disappointed as before. it's almost as though there's an acceptance of circumstances, of red strings being shifted and directed around them.

"hello," she murmurs and while she doesn't slide down from the clay shoulder, deus lowers itself to kneel in front of the corsola. it squeaks, an odd noise for a ghoul but one that she doesn't mind. and yet, it doesn't move away. instead it'll drift closer as if there's a pull tying similar spirits together. then, there's another noise. this one is almost half a coo, half a sigh.

and for the first time today, illeana bares the hints of a smile. a hand is outstretched and welcoming, the action mirrored a moment later by the golem beneath her. both don't say a word, instead allowing actions to speak for themselves. come, they hint. come and join the journey. the corsola drifts closer and closer until branches are brushing against clay and while the sound that escapes the automaton isn't as cheerful as it used to be, it still stirs some sort of feeling within the scientist. she can't put a name to it, doesn't even bother to try, but it's a different sort of bubbling emotion than she's been having. and where the new normal, if one could even call it that, has left her cold and not quite right, this feels like the welcoming of a new beginning.