it's surprising that he didn't know, but she doesn't expect him to know about these facts. after all, mega-gengars weren't exactly a common sight, to begin with. never mind the fact that they seem to have more than one mega-evolution. she wonders if it's possible for a single gengar to take on both forms. it'd require further research. [break][break]

her eyes wander, and see the little speck of purple make its way into her peripheral, almost.. looking like it's running to her, slicking along, before holding its little wax arms against her leg. then she stares, and there's a brief reflection of familiarity. [break][break]

not that she would show it on her face. [break][break]

she quickly pulls out a pokeball, throwing it at the little candle pokemon, before turning her attention.. back to the question asked. she's lucky she has a good memory (and has gotten better at managing distractions). "i doubt i'd hear anything asides from cursing, or sneering." she sighs, hooking the pokeball onto her belt "horrible parents, neglectful parents, you understand."

Dal-yong Nam [break]
catching litwick

☉

a grimace is on her lips, though she bites it back before it can be properly seen. [break][break]

"my family.." she turns her gaze from him, in favour of looking down to the pavement. silence befalls her as her fingers gently tap against the cardboard cup of coffee that she's set in her lap. how does she word this, and how does she tell this story? [break][break]

of course, she'll never tell him a full tale. pain and toil that's weighed on her heart for nearly two decades will never fade, nor will she ever soften far enough to crumble to grovel in emotional mercy (she's done it before, in a setting that was less ideal; it's unfair to them both for her to be following the "once bitten twice shy" approach). her silence isn't deliberating how she'll explain her story - no, it's how she'll plan to lie between her teeth, with a smile on her lips, in hopes that he'll no longer ask. [break][break]

so instead, her gaze lowers. the pensiveness of her formulating and recalling the bits of a fabricated story can be masked as her deliberating how she should tell this lie (she's told it so many times by now, and today's telling would be no different. it's all the same no matter who it's confessed to). [break][break]

it's all the same. [break][break]

then with narrowed eyes, a woman takes in another deep breath of air, and her gaze falls upon her own litleo, who energetically paws, and very lightly bites the tail of the other young cub. "... i didn't know them too well." she finally says, after such a long pause. it's a lie, of course, being told through a smile "i was an orphan, so.. i can't really say i knew them." bitterness can be mistaken for coldness, and her distaste was never something she could hide. [break][break]

call it curiosity as a dulled eye glances towards a man, to analyze and scan his facial features for a reaction. he'll be uncomfortable, won't he? then he'll stop asking, and try to move the conversation on. [break][break]

they always do.

Leonidas Stone

☉

"i think you're picking the wrong person to ask."[break][break]

and asked the worst person to take this job on with her, too. marisol doesn't dance; she researches, and she holes herself up in her lab to perform experiments. not.. whatever this all looked to be. honestly, it looks exhausting and sounds tiring - moreso than what studying could do to her. [break][break]

for a time, she was sitting down in a chair, with a small folding table at her side that could act as an arm rest, along with a bottle holder for water. one leg is crossed over the other, and her cheek is rest against the knuckles of a closed fist. ".. first of all, do we have an idea for what kind of music they'd want to perform with?" her eye narrows to her phone, and she flicks it on with her free hand "unless we're in charge of that, too."

Astra Faustino

☉

she knows better than to force consent when it comes to someone else's body (though her father would argue otherwise, and that it was always for the sake of science). it's different when it's.. an acquaintance. [break][break]

and taking another sip from her drink, she hums, and her smile broadens. it was always easier talking to him, and she wonders why it's so, but maybe it's the sugar putting her in a better mood. she always did have a sweet tooth. he stays optimistic, and his care for her comes from a place of concern. [break][break]

maybe that's what softens her up. [break][break]

the music store catches her eye, too, although instils a little less life than the sweet beverage keeping her fingers chilled. "i guess.." she trails, idly eyeing the piano that sits inside, through the window "although i'm expecting for things to get worse, somehow."[break][break]

it's a passing thought, really. [break][break]

"so.. did you only call me out to take a walk over a drink?~" she asks, gently shaking the drink with the ice hitting the chilled, plastic corners of the cup.

Dante Telos

☉

"somber" isn't a term she'd use.[break][break]

it's the first that comes to mind, thinking back to old, quieter days that just seemed so normal. with recent events over the fair few years, she's forgotten what a normal life entails. and instead, at his little retelling - and correction - she leans back again into her seat, with the same, ever-changing expression of pensiveness on her face, and in her uncovered eye. [break][break]

though she perks up, blinking a time before turning her gaze to side-eye a man who asks. ".. me?" she asks, though it's for herself "what about me?"

Leonidas Stone

☉

curious, all the more. [break][break]

especially when her shoes touch on the golden sand. her eyes narrow, and she squints slightly at the beating sun from above. it's way too hot for this. although they do catch the writing on the sand, and she's first to crouch down, taking a better look at the letters transcribed with the newest riddle. although.. she'll assume that it's a riddle in reference to recent events - events that she'd only heard of, and she can only imagine that she wasn't present for all of them.[break][break]

there's a small group already forming, with the intention to speak about the riddle. she should listen to it - her BLISSEY thinks so as well, trying to poke and prod at her trainer. when it doesn't work, she uses MINIMIZE to shrink herself to sit on a woman's shoulder. she's lost in thought, then narrows her eyes at the water, to put the whirlpools in her peripherals. she knows better than to disobey the words so conveniently written on the sand. [break][break]

".. should i just throw sarco in there?" her greninja, who she can already feel shaking in her pokeball at the suggestion. the poor thing. [break][break]

what catches her attention are the whispers she hears, faint from the water, and she lifts herself up only to walk closer to the shore, but not close enough to the water to get a better listen. and there, she hears the faint whisper get louder, until it bursts at her, like a scream (like a cry that's all too familiar), in a voice she hasn't heard in so long (in a mother's voice), screeching: [break][break]

"THIS PAIN WILL NEVER HEAL... NOT WITH YOU HERE".

[break]

and she cringes, and jolts, immediately stepping away from the waters.

---

𓆙 marisol arrives with CURSOLA, BLISSEY and GRENINJA
[break]𓆙 BLISSEY used MINIMIZE and sits on mari's shoulder
[break]𓆙 debates on using her GRENINJA as fodder. she doesn't.
[break]𓆙 mari hears the phrase "THIS PAIN WILL NEVER HEAL NOT WITH YOU HERE". she cringes.

cyberchase conundrum

☉

ah yes, she'd go to one percent if she could. [break][break]

if only to bash on a man's self-esteem, though she knows that it would take a lot more than that to wipe the sly and coy smile on his face. her lips curl into another smile as she narrows her eyes, watching as a fairy and a bird both make their merry ways. the wafting scent of berries seemed to follow the perfume pokemon. [break][break]

"well, gengar is an interesting pokemon, for one." she hums, a smile to her lips as she tilts her head. "a type of mega-evolved gengar, that is. they say its mouth is the way to the afterlife~" her gaze falls to a pokeball, and specifically one of her gastly "whispers of loved ones could be heard in their mouths - i wonder what a clefable could hear if they stood close enough?~"

Dal-yong Nam [break]
skipping

☉

bittersweetness coats his words - at least, when they reach her ears. she can only smile (and scoff a little, in the confines and safety of her mind) at how quick he is to put his faith in her. it's funny how leaving rocket can introduce you to so many good people. it's funny how leaving the submarine a ear or so ago could change a person so much. [break][break]

her fingers wiggle as she idly glances around her kit, eventually pulling the ice packs before wrapping them around in gauze. then she holds it over to direct "hold this over your bruises" before taking more gauze and bandages, beginning to carefully wrap them around wounds with a somewhat flat expression. [break][break]

"and i wouldn't say my work deserves that much praise~" she still chimes, despite knowing that it does. despite being prideful, she'll still wear the somewhat shy smile of modesty (it's something carried over from wendy, and it makes her gag whenever she recognizes it)

Calix Nikolau

☉

maybe it's genuine. [break][break]

.. maybe a little bit of it is. [break][break]

because she'll be lying if she says it's for the sake of formalities. long gone are the days where marisol would put on a weak smile to her lips, and nervously stammer over her own words. nowadays, she's a little different. both hands clasp their fingers around the drink, and her eyes narrow as she starts to take another sip. it's sweet, almost disgustingly so, but it surprises her to know that dante's even remembered that about her. [break][break]

"if it's that bad, i'm still more than willing to try and help stimulate those memories to return.." she trails off, and the weight of her words are able to fully sink in. so, rather than following up, she shakes her head in thought. moving on. "it could be worse." she takes another swing of sugar "i think father's lectures were worse than my professor's exams~"

Dante Telos

☉

it sounded like the pot calling the kettle black, but she holds her tongue with that comment. after all, she's got no right to critique or judge. he speaks of his childhood, fondly, she can hear it in his voice. and hearing that reminds her: there are people who enjoyed their childhoods, or wish to revisit them. from what she can remember, maybe she'd want that, too. [break][break]

"is that so..?" a hand raises to bring the cup of sweetened coffee to her lips, long cooled by now even in this mid-summer heat. "you have a lot of siblings, don't you?" she asks, lowering the cup to rest against her lap "it must have been loud, growing up."[break][break]

lively is the word she wants to use, but the word comes from her lips without her thinking. it seems to be happening more often.

Leonidas Stone

☉