"Sweetie? It's me." Came the electronic reply, though the tone may be distinctly familiar. Deep with an accustomed sternness behind it, attempting to be soft. It was uncharacteristic of Lionel to appear anywhere in a simple polo and beige slacks. It was also uncommon for the man to be holding a bag of groceries, he rarely cooked nowadays.

"Are you erm... free, at the moment?"

[attr="class","freiwantt"]

Speaking of Madeleine left a rather bitter taste in his mouth. But he did not wish to change anything about the relationships between Melody and her mother, irrespective of how toxic it was. She was her own adult and should make her decisions on who to keep in her life.

"I know dear." He replied, his voice rather darkened by the subject matter. "It's just not something that is comfortable to me. I still have feelings for her, but I also remember how vividly unhappy the situation was. For my own good, and hers, it's best if we stay apart as much as possible."

Lionel sipped his wine, finishing the glass as he called for another to be poured. "Well honey, I'd ask you this question instead, why do you want to become Champion?"

Melody Miro

Lionel pursed his lips together. He had expected too much from Madeleine, and he had known the type of person she had been before. Looking at Melody now, perhaps she had been right after all. If Lionel had raised her, would she have become a pop star and an Elite Four member, and potential contender for Champion? Perhaps she was happier this way.

Yet, something did not rub the right way about how she was now.

He believed her lie, in any case. Not because of the way it was fabricated, but because he believed Madeleine would not care that much, so long as their daughter continued to carry her dreams.

"Well... that is all I wanted to ask." Lionel replied. "Goodbye, Del." And he turned towards his car, opened the door, and drove away.

Madeleine Miro

"I see." He replied, cold anger ran underneath his normal veneer, untraceable save that he focused his gaze on his coffee cup to not expel its acidic contents to everyone nearby. "Dahlia, I would like the League's assistance in helping me perhaps find the culprit of this situation. If not, perhaps at least you would understandably look the other way, should I search for the culprit myself." He paused.

"In the meantime... while she is an Elite four of her own volition and therefore under your employment, can I ask that you discourage her from any excessively dangerous situations. While she's a masterful trainer in her own right, I can't help but worry." Perhaps that was not a sufficient ansdwer. "A good coach knows when to rest their star players, a good trainer knows when to recall their Pokemon when the injuries they deem are excessive... I hope that is a good enough analogy."

dahlia goode

There's a quietness to Lionel as he hears her speak, the tone of her voice was flustered. But it clearly did not make her feel comfortable. Teasing was fun, but too much, and he didn't want to press perhaps into a sore spot in her daughter's life. He nodded simply and said, "They are out there sweetie. Your old man's not the as infallible as you may think he is sweetie."

The dinner progresses apace, soup finishes, followed by an entree of Impossible Slowpoke Tail. Lionel listens, nodding as Melody summarizes the events which collectively pulled her into stardom. "Because you're the most qualified for the job honey." Lionel replies, "You're a remarkable trainer. if you choose, you will become Champion one day. It's just a matter of patience." There is absolution in his voice, as if there was nothing that made him more confident in the statement. He had seen her battles, he had watched her fights against Matias Silph as well.

Lionel paused as she continues. "I see..." A smile forms on his face, "Perhaps it will always be like that, perhaps it'll fade. I think the public eye is often like that: Shallow out of necessity, not out of spite." A mantra he repeats to himself. "How do you feel about that?"

Ah, Del.

"No... not yet." A smile forms on his face, though its mainly to mask what he feels. "Some things are best left buried dear. Seeing her again would bring back memories of pain, joy too, but mostly pain. For both of us." He cleared his throat, sipping the wine as he stared into the glass, before back to Melody. "Did you want us to meet again?"

Melody Miro

There were a myriad retorts he wanted to provide as he looked back into his ex-wife's eyes. They were as callous as ever, and yet, no matter what she had done, no matter how much agony they had been in while together, he did not hate her.

The opposite, really, they still sparkled like the ruby gems he thought they were when she was young. She was as young as he remembered. He remembered how she could make his heart soar, and at the very same moment, palpitate.

It was a cruel joke that he could not escape it.

"What do you know about Melody's kidnapping?" He asked. The less time that he had spent in formal business, the more of a chance he would be able to leave here without doing something immensely stupid. Like invite her to dinner.

Madeleine Miro

It's a bitterly grey day. He thought to himself, as sunshine beamed down the roadside of his car. The tune of his radio is stock mockert banter, the wheels of his car seemed extra shaky, as he drove down memory lane, past sand and the smell of the sea, past a pink haired child tripping over a tree branch, a younger blonde man rushing to pick up the child, and a red haired demon staring calculating the worth of them both, and regretting every decision made here.

His car tires grinded to a halt, as he parked into his former mansion. Sand turned to greenery, gravel roads turned to fresh paved cement, palm trees turned to brilliantly cut hedges and flowers. Statues of white marble and intricate metalwork. And there she was, as cold and pristine as marble sculpture, and in spite of everything that she had done to him, that they had done to each other, just as beautiful.

Why did he choose to come here? He exited the car, dressed in business casual. From now on he had his guard up.

"Del," He spoke, looking down towards her Persian, "Envy." He broke a smile, but it was rehearsed, he had not seen Envy in a while, but as much as he disliked, it reminded him of her. "Are we here to drag up memories? We could have just as easily had coffee in Slateport." He replied, already thoughts of complaints rushed into his head, but he held it in a smile, so as to infer teasing, rather than misery.

Madeleine Miro

There is a slight rattle in his breath as he exhales. When Dahlia spoke, his blood went cold, a spike of cortisol rushes into his spine and spreads into every limb of his body, freezing him for just a moment. But it was only for a moment, he regains his composure soon after, as he raises his arm up to order another cup of coffee.

And yet.

Dahlia's face is professional, but her voice is out of tune. It switches back as she completes her sentence and returns to her normal self, non-chalant, stoic. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder? Lionel considered it, briefly. It was possible, perhaps Melody was an excellent actor, and he knew he had blinders for people he cared for. But the way Dahlia spoke somewhat betrayed she suspected more occurring.

"Dahlia," He began, his voice is relaxed, but fear seeps behind it, insidiously shaking his timbre in between its smooth composition. "Please tell me, is there anything else you know, or even suspect?"

dahlia goode

Lionel paused as he listened, clearly this was something that was put onto a backburner and he had placed her on the spot. He decided to tone it down, just a tad. "Find someone that you'd like to spend time with?" He asked, finishing her sentence. Lionel didn't really think that she'd be absolutely without suitors, that was not the case at all, but perhaps picking someone that was able to reach a standard in her head.

"Take all the time you want Melody." He chuckled, "I would like to see tiny babies with pink hair someday, that would be very cute." That would be something worth building an empire for. Lionel sipped his wine, white, a pairing with lobster, relatively dry. It fostered memories best left forgotten, or perhaps it was this conversation?

"Perhaps looking for love is not something high on your priority either, and that is okay too." Lionel smiled towards her. He did not tell her however, that he was thinking of someone in particular. But he decided to drop the conversation here before the mood bittered for him. "So, aside from work, and love life, how have you been recently? I hope you're still managing to stay healthy, I can't imagine the amount of stress being put on you now that you're Elite Four and a global pop star."

Melody Miro

Lionel watched, just ever so slightly, the quick snap of emotion between her worries. Then... nothing. It was as if she had no recollection of the sadness as he spoke. That was odd, but nothing that concerning. It was just a one off thing, or a defense mechanism, perhaps. So he moved on.

There was something so immensely fun about making fun of one's own kids or making them feel embarrassment. As she suddenly yelled, Lionel snorted in response, "Sorry dear." He replied, placing a hand on his neck, "I see... does your partner have well manicured nails? I'm totally fine in meeting her, or them, or whoever." He gave an innocuous smile as the breadsticks came over. Lionel waited until the first in the course was served before picking a garlic stick up.

Lobster Bisque with red shrimp, someone knew his tastes. He broke a piece off, dipped it into the soup and chewed. Heavenly, food never tasted so good, though he mostly ate by a laptop and alone. No room for relationships though, he quirked a brow. "I can't believe that Hoenn's biggest pop star would not have any suitors." He smiled, but then again, he too was engrossed in his work, perhaps it ran in their blood. "Or perhaps you're just not settling for anyone in particular right now?"

Melody Miro

Lionel squeezed Melody's shoulders, "Part of me will always think of you in that way." He replied, but he knew she needed to stretch her wings without his suffocating presence. Still, if it must be said, "But, if you're ever in need of a father, you can let me know dear." He paused, he knew with good reason that Melody held him tight, he wasn't as strong of an influence on her life as he should have been.

An absentee father, a warped pedestal.

"It was more that I couldn't be there in time for it." Lionel admitted. "But seeing you up there with all those faces with you, that was a very awakening experience for me." Lionel paused as she began to ask him about work. Strangely enough, he couldn't really put down a direct answer on how it was, "It's as usual sweetie, most days I wake up to the the sound of a call, sometimes I lay at bed trying to put out fires, but mostly it has been good. I think of it as--" A child. Lionel's eyes stared into his glass of wine, before turning back to Melody, smiling. "Well... sometimes, when you have so many people asking you for things, you forget to spend time with those you care for."

Lionel took his wine glass and raised it up, "But we're here now, so cheers honey, I'm going to spend more time with you from now on." As he sipped, he pulled a fast one on her.

"So, will I have any grandchildren soon?"

Melody Miro

It was always a nervewracking thing to be face-to-face with your loved ones. Lionel felt it to his bones of the aniticipation, and at the soame time, a passable amount of fear and excitement. He had not been vulnerable in a very long time, and Melody mostly like the only one who still knew of him. But what he feared was that she only knew what used to be him.

Was he still a father? Was he still a man? Did she still look up to him with the doe-eyed love of a child, when she now stood atop the world? Perhaps. Or maybe it was just him, fearing that the relationship would be changed, and part of him knew that it was because he was not there for her all the time. It was a Schrodinger's love, he desperately wanted to be back with his daughter, and at the same time, feared it. But he seated himself here, ten minutes earlier, scrolling through baby pictures all the same, wondering how much these last few years had changed his girl, for better or worse.

"Dad! How are you?!"

It was the bright voice of a girl, and it almost melted his heart to see him. Lionel smiled, genuinely, goofily, as he stood up from his seat and clutched his daughter in his arms. He buried his head into her hair and kissed her forehead. "I missed you sweetie." He replied, slowly relaxing his hug, before holding her shoulders and looking down towards her face. She was a woman grown, older, mature, her eyes stronger than she was at twenty and at sixteen. But still there was something else there that he couldn't pinpoint, but he didn't care at the moment, he just wanted to stay there for a little while longer. "Look at you dear." He said, "I can scarcely believe how much you've grown."

A scarcity he did not wish to repeat. He turned quickly to the waiter, "We'll have the set, whichever one the chef recommends." He replied, smiling, he did not wish to be disturbed with recommendations of wine or the choice of bread, or anything vapid that would cut away from spending time with his girl. "I saw you on the Wailord dear." He replied, smiling, though a hint of regret filled his eyes, "How was the festival, was it any good?"

Melody Miro