ah, that's it. [break][break]

she can draw as many differences as she'd like between them; she'll line them up neatly in a chart, where her faults and shortcomings will be laid bare. it's a blessing that he's someone she's met after the debacle with rocket, but he's still someone she'll need to stay cautious of; if only because of his roots, and his heritage[break][break]

(oh, she knows what monstrosities she and her father have caused; and while her father was generally better at hiding his tracks, marisol fears for the lost daughter wendy; she's lucky that the news never ran rampant). [break][break]

he has the resources, and he's ambitious, and would be smart enough to check her background were he ever interested enough. thus, it's better not to divulge in the details - to spare her having to fabricate another lie for her ongoing one. and yet "struggles are a part of life" she says, and she should hold her tongue, but there's something about that hope and optimism from him that leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. it reminds her of someone ".. but some struggles are too cruel, and unreasonable." maybe she's talking about herself. maybe she's talking about the people she's come across. [break][break]

who can say?[break][break]

".. but i'll think about it. she glares out, eyeing the cubs who continue to paw and play fight "if you're really alright with listening, then i'll consider it" she won't.[break][break]

"i just don't want to bother or burden you."

Leonidas Stone

☉

.. he doesn't look to b suspicious. [break][break]

years of caution has done this to her; he's just someone who's interested in the book she's reading, and all the scribbling being done with pen in hand and paper on desk. she sighs, and glances back down at the words she's scribbled. the paper is littered with formulae, circles of red with arrows to insert in between equations. physics, chemistry and bits of notes of biology are sprinkled together, with messy diagrams around and about - though he probably wouldn't be able to read it. [break][break]

doctor writing exists, and it's very real. [break][break]

her left hand gently opens her fingers, expanding the page of the book, slightly. "... i'm just reading a sci-fi book." not something that she would normally read, but the current science was always once thought to be science fiction, and now look at where they are now. "and.. was trying to see if some of the tech and chemistry proposed in this text could hypothetically be done in reality."

Ryan Arcken

☉

maybe he's right about one thing. [break][break]

it's hard to recount when her pragmatism turned into pessimism, and she probably wouldn't notice until it's pointed out. she also wouldn't have noticed herself instinctively glaring through the window, and at the piano that was resting for display. when he does point that out, she immediately tries to turn her head away from the window, but she knows she's already been caught. [break][break]

"... you're going to insist that we go in, aren't you?" the answer is obvious, she's just desperately hoping that's not the case. specifically when he starts to nudge at her, and she raises her cup to take a longer sip of her beverage. with her head cooled with sweetness, she lets out a soft sigh, with another hand raised to the bridge of her nose to rub. [break][break]

".. we can go in for a little bit, but.. i just want to look at the piano."

Dante Telos

☉

"you're imagining things" she'll be quick to retort. her eyes narrow again, though away from his gaze. it looks more like he wants a direct answer, not like her clear distaste hadn't spelled it out enough. how nosy. "i'm not curious." and then she snuffs, slightly, as she turns her gaze away from the stones to press on down the path. [break][break]

"i'd have to be crazy to be." because what mattered weren't the humans she was associated with; it was the pokemon. she'll keep that bit to herself, though. "and what about you, if you're so curious about how i feel? anything from anyone you'd be curious to hear from?" she clicks her tongue.

Dal-yong Nam [break]
pending litwick

☉

yes, that's right. the life of an orphan isn't easy, is it? especially when they're raised in the system, without any actual parental figure, when they're released into the world with not a dime to their name, and the scars that come from the adoption process, and the anxiety that seems boundless. it's hard, and those are indeed, difficulties and hardships. they just aren't hers. [break][break]

though something he says does strike a chord, let it be for better or for worse. it's enough to make a woman's eyes widen, slightly, even if it may be something that could be lumped in with the other "i'm sorry"s and "you're strong"s. it's not the fact that he'll lend her an ear (many people have offered, and she'll lie all the same. dependancy was never high on her bucket list), it's when he says he's glad she got through it (something she's heard a few times, in the past, but always thought 'i wish i hadn't'). [break][break]

but the surprise is quickly overrun with a small smile back to her lips (one that never reaches her eyes, and one that fades overtime as she can't hold it for too long) and, with a soft hum, she closes her eyes as she leans forwards, an elbow resting upon her knees. "don't worry about it." a sigh escapes her lips, though she still maintains a side glance at a man, only occasionally paying attention to the fighting cubs in the background.[break][break]

"... you aren't uncomfortable with that, though? listening to something that'd bring the mood down."

Leonidas Stone

☉

ah yes, throwing them into a job without any kind of guidance. it feels like her childhood all over again. [break][break]

"i'm almost spiteful enough to make the dance unnecessarily complex.." her words slip through a hum as she continues to stroll through her phone, browsing through the plethora of music that she's all unfamiliar with. they'd better be paid handsomely with this, otherwise how are they supposed to create an entire routine when they don't know what pokemon are going to be participating, what kind of image someone is working for, and what kind of genre they're supposed to even work with? [break][break]

the woman glances from her seat and - exasperated, but quickly - gets up from her seat with phone in hand. the screen is still on when she holds it between her fingers and her thumb, though she narrows her eyes away from the dimmed screen. ".. if i recall, your roommate has a taste for dance music, right?" the woman quirks a brow, tilting her head "we could try asking her."

Astra Faustino

☉

perhaps she did, to a degree. hell if she'll know now. [break]
all she remembers are words of disdain, and hatred, and a grudge that burns so strongly she may suffocate on its fumes. [break][break]

but being practical and realistic comes with the inevitable feeling of pessimism, so it's a little foreign for her to hear something optimistic coming from a man's lips (even if she's aware that it's true, and she knows, first hand, how her mother had struggled to try and bring her precious, kind-hearted, slightly anxious and mess of a daughter back). "perhaps" is all she says, and her arms cross as she leisurely continues her stroll.[break][break]

leaving the past in the past is difficult, especially when she's reminded and faced with it every time she opens up a damned book.[break][break]

so much so that she pauses, a fair few paces from the familiar gravestone. her eyes narrow again, though after a fleeting thought, the woman shakes her head. "father already said his fill" her tone is filled with venom, that time "he's doubtlessly laughing at me from his grave. possibly tormenting mother." her blood boils, but her fingers curl into her fist as she takes a moment's respite. [break][break]

".. regardless, what they said stays in the past, and what they'll say now won't matter."

Dal-yong Nam [break]
pending litwick

☉

her smile barely reaches her eyes, but she tries. [break][break]

the first thing she notices is a man's attire, the next thing she notices is a man's demeanour, and the last thing she notices is his voice and appearance. none of which were lacking, or bad, in the slightest, though she's glad that she'll never have to confess it to the dear friend who's set her up. still, it's a pleasant surprise - at least, pleasant enough for her to still smile as she sits herself in the seat that's pulled out. [break][break]

"mhm.. marisol." she'll politely correct, but "... it's alright to call me mari, though." only for tonight. her head tilts back, her gaze catching a man after she's seated herself comfortably "i.. didn't keep you waiting, did i?"

Inigo del Rosario

☉

it never works to be vague; not with him, when he's dead set on it.[break][break]

it's a good trait, but endlessly irritating, and troublesome. she's tempted to say nothing, and tempted to leave it as is, until she skewers another can with her sharp pole. "i can't say the details are pleasant." nor something that he'll want to hear, or he'll like to hear (she knows how pitiful it might make her seem, a woman's identity cracked and crumbling at the seams). [break][break]

it's troublesome, knowing that he's so good at looking through, and looking past her stoic facade (maybe it takes one to know one she knows that's certainly the case on her part when she's seen how a part of him has been lost since the last time she's seen him). ".. i cracked, and left rocket two years ago." her jab into the can has a bit more aggression behind it "i simply took the woman i was, and i strangled her."[break][break]

such a nonchalant way for her to confess to a murder.

Asahiko Hakuryuu

☉

ah, just her luck. she meets another person from her past. [break][break]

abso-fucking-wonderful.[break][break]

she knows him, but only through her father (that seems to be a trend, nowadays). father never liked getting his hands dirty, and oddly enough, wasn't someone who took joy in watching the life leave ones body - or, that's wrong. he loved nothing more than watching the life leave their eyes, as they went limp from exhaustion, fatigue, struggling against the restraints and belts tying ones arms, legs and stomach down against the metal counter. [break][break]

very few people know about what her father did with victims, and bodies, but those who did know usually wouldn't approach her about her identity. so call her surprised when she realizes that a man's recognized her, from ages back. call her surprised when he confronts her, and when she reluctantly agrees to join him to pick up the trash. [break][break]

were this two years ago, she'd be panicked in her mind, wondering how he's recognized her. nowadays, she's maintaining an indifferent expression as she stabs the little pole through a can tossed on the ground. "you can say i had an epiphany." she narrows her eyes, jabbing the spike through some crumpled paper, that time "copious amount of self reflection does that."

Asahiko Hakuryuu

☉

'but mariiii'[break]
'no.'[break]
'mariiiiiiiiii'[break]
'no.'[break]
'well too bad because i already set the date and place'[break]
'...'[break]
'go get 'em bb :paisablep:'[break]
'i'm gonna kill you when i get back.'[break][break]


it's hopeless. marisol, of all people, on a blind date? arceus may as well smite her where she stands, because she's not good at dates, period, nor has she ever cared about them. there was temptation to only barely dress up for the occasion, if only so she looks somewhat presentable. hell, she would have gone with her lab coat had the gremlin that lives in her phone hadn't started complaining, and nagging at her to try dressing up some. [break][break]

this is going to add more years than med school will. [break][break]

so here she is, walking in black heels, with a pair of high-waisted dress pants, with a white, off the shoulder shirt tucked in at the hem. her hair is tied up higher, for once, though her bangs are still covering the odd eye. no eye patch today, however, after getting enough of an earful to forego it for today. she has a small bag over her shoulder, and her fingers curl around it, instinctively. [break][break]

she has confidence, now, but that doesn't save the lingering social anxiety that comes when she notices passerbys eye her. this didn't.. suit her, in the slightest. god save her. [break][break]

her eyes narrow, scanning the area around until she finds a man, sitting on his phone. then she glances at her own, absentmindedly glaring at her phone to look at the description that someone so lovingly sent her. so god help her, she's gonna strangle her when she gets back. [break][break]

and after confirming her suspicions, marisol approaches the man whilst slipping her phone back into her bag. ".. excuse me?" she chirps up, stopping a few paces away with both hands raised, clinging to the strap of her bag "are you here for a blind date?"

Inigo del Rosario

☉

"she did, once." [break][break]

bitterness is cold, and frosty, when there's a bite in her words and disdain in the crease of her brows. they're unpleasant memories, honestly, especially when she's so easily reminded with the gravestones systematically spread apart, and scattered about across the field. "but that changed, real fast." [break][break]

it changes because she just wouldn't get better, no matter how many drugs her mom pumped into her, no matter how much time is spent in therapy. "mother just accepted that there was no fixing me, that's about it." she was a saviour who desperately tried to save her daughter, and she was hopeful (until she found another sewn together corpse in her cubby, decaying and rotton). [break][break]

"... anyways, i'm not here to visit their graves." they pass by headstones, familiar writing with portraits of a young man and a young woman, buried together, even after they've split. "i'm more interested in the pokemon graves."

Dal-yong Nam [break]
pending litwick

☉