[attr="class","illie"]

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

[attr="class","illie i"]if it were anyone else, she might be a little put off by the use of her last name. family ties are messy and what not. instead, she smiles a little wider, stands up a little straighter. and eventually, she'll drift a little closer. for now, however, she merely bobs her head and fidgets slightly where she is now.

"i believe so," she murmurs. is anyone really ready when it comes to training? yeah, probably but her? well, that's definitely debatable.

illeana takes the opportunity to drift into his orbit, head tilting slightly to one side. "is now a good time to start?" is it obvious she's never exactly done this before? probably. her golurk looks a little more excited than its trainer. all bright eyed and bushy tailed and hovering over her shoulder to stare at the councilman. she ignores the presence for the most part, used to the usual routine of toddler-like excitement until it's time to get down to business. almost like flicking a switch, that one.

and maybe she's second guessing herself a little by the way she glances around, as if suddenly unsure she's worthy of this. the thought is kept quiet for now, tucked away into a filing cabinet for later.

FERNANDO SILPH

[attr="class","illie"]

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

[attr="class","illie i"]his own personal course. she supposes she shouldn't be surprised. not really, anyway. he's a man of power, of influence, and to expect anything less than the best even in training would be foolish. the thought still has her nervous, fidgeting where she stands. a nod follows before she's glancing toward the automaton in question. the hint of a smile rises to her lips, pulling at the corners of her mouth. "i believe it just might," she murmurs. there's no doubt in her mind the golurk is excited but will it hold up against this? she isn't sure.

she's quick to glance around the gym, to take in their surroundings. truthfully, she's never actually used the gym before. best to not stick her nose where it doesn't belong and whatnot. the pitching machines almost look like they're set up for sports. would this be considered a sport? or is it simply just borrowed sports equipment to fulfill a purpose? either way, she's halfway between curious, nervous, and confused all at once.

"are the machines the warm up?" and is it more for her golurk or for her? probably both, if she had to take a guess. it's logical to start off slow and gradually work up to harder training but now that she's here, all of it seems hard compared to her inexperience. the automaton at her side looks ready, however. stepping up to the plate, an excited coo escaping as it shifts forward.

FERNANDO SILPH

[attr="class","illie"]

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

[attr="class","illie i"]a startled gasp escapes, drawn out by the sheer velocity of the tennis ball whizzing past her. and really, she doesn't even want to entertain the thought of how it'd feel to be hit by the thing. subconsciously, she drifts a little closer to her golurk.

even as he explains, it does little to quell her anxiety.

"are we allowed to use attacks to protect us from the tennis balls?" the automaton at her side is practically a clay shield but it can only take so much damage before that clay begins to chip. the briefest of flashes from littleroot rise, sudden clips of clay breaking apart and shattering. it makes her nauseous. she swallows, as if to keep the memories and the emotions they bring at bay.

increasing the difficulty will place a strain on not just her pokemon but herself as well. the added pressure of protecting cutouts makes sense, she supposes, but the concept that she's misjudged this comes on suddenly. it's more than she expected, even if it's considered easy by most training standards. can she keep up? or will she fail again? the thought has her hands shaking.

she has to try to steel herself, to keep her composure strong throughout the training. something tells her fernando will never accept weakness and the need to be useful makes her step forward. her chin rises, as if holding her head high will convince him that she's prepared, that she's ready.

"okay, let's do this."

she's in over her head, a trend that seems to follow their intertwined paths.

FERNANDO SILPH

[attr="class","illie"]

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

[attr="class","illie i"]the mild beginnings of a strategy form with his confirmation. and while she's normally trying to play it safe, this is nothing more than training. he won't fault her if she tries out something new, right? she's about to find out.

he starts off with a count and then, she's moving. her legs are slow to the start, enough for her to stumble slightly. balance is regained, sure, but the delay in timing has her gasping when the first ball comes flying toward her. "phantom force," she murmurs. the discolored golurk doesn't offer any sound, shifting into shadows without hesitation. a strategy of disappearance, of waiting, of striking when the time is right. the automaton emerges from the floor a moment later, a clay arm already swinging up and out to block the ball before it can get closer.

they continue like this. her trying her hardest to run through the course without pausing to catch her breath and the golurk emerging to bat away the attacks that come. she doesn't bother to switch up the plan, doesn't even consider it. this is her optimal strategy, her best chance to make it through unscathed. and when she's finally done, her cheeks are flushed and small beads of sweat roll down her face.

"it's good," she murmurs once she joins fernando's side. her chest rises and falls a little too quickly for her liking but it's to be expected. she's out of shape, naturally. "a bit of everything rolled into one prepares you more than just focusing on one thing at a time, right?" besides, there's no room to only focus on one thing at a time when you're thrown into the thick of things. her mind drifts back to littleroot, to the lack of time. mistakes made and lives lost and perhaps that's why she's in this gym with him, working herself into a state of preparedness. adjusting the straps on her sports bra, she glances toward him with the ghost of a smile. "your turn?"

FERNANDO SILPH