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it's not every day where she meets a kindred soul. [break][break]

a kindred soul, in the form of a woman who loves the recent mythology as much as she does. her knowledge of spatial distortions is insultingly slim, but the mention of any sort of experimentation can bring her out of her work, and out of her own make-shift lab in her own apartment. [break][break]

it's a normal day in hoenn - save for all the reports and injured that came around this route. there was word of distortions, still, and it looks like they never really stopped.[break][break]

marisol's lips curl into a smile as a pleasant breeze blows on by, and dual-toned eyes glance over her shoulder and to the albino woman who walks alongside her. "it should be around here" she hums, hands held together with fingers pressed into a tent "there've been reports of sudden distortions on this route. many people have come to the pokemon centre injured because of them."

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ah, she remembers this game. [break][break]

and vaguely remembers her luck. should she remember it fondly? there are still a few prizes she got from the previous year, but she doesn't quite... know what they're supposed to be used for. marisol takes a deep breath, and dives her way under the water to begin searching for.. the first thing she could find. [break][break]

anything would suffice; it's better than nothing. [break]

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oh, she recognizes this one. barely. [break][break]

though familiarity doesn't matter when they all fall into the tank the same. though, she'll still pray that she doesn't fall into it. the last time she threw the damn ball, she sat on the godforsaken throne. then she unceremoniously fell into the tank of water. refreshing as it is, she wouldn't like to go a second time. [break][break]

not when she finally got the water out of her hair. [break][break]

but still, she's back, like an unhealthy addiction, and lobs the pokeball at the target.

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it doesn't surprise her that they're doing this again. [break][break]

so she watches a line of people attempt to throw a pokeball at the target. last year, she didn't have any trouble dunking people. this year, she prays that she does - if only so she can be spared from getting soaked in the water for a second time. her fingers are crossed.

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how cold. [break][break]

but maybe she's the cold one for finding this amusing. her eyes fall to the wyrm and her hands to her sides. he'd become so sullen and so mellow, cooped up in his own little world of research while hoping for a way back to their homes. [break][break]

she watched over the years, how sanity wastes away from those who wish for their old lives back. she watched over the years, how sanity rekindles and rebuilds itself from those who hated the life they led back in hoenn. there was a time she'd be afraid of this fascination. [break][break]

but even when she should have been disheartened at his cold response, she smiles all the warmer - a warmth fueled by morbid curiosity and a dash of sadism. [break][break]

silence falls over her, still, and the smile shrinks and wavers. [break][break]

"i agree." she finally says, breaking the silence, and lowering her gaze slightly. "but we may as well work with the cards we are dealt with." marisol turns back to the rocks scattered across the mines, another hand reaching down to the bag of a sample she's collected.[break][break]

"on that note," she hums, hands softly clapping together with a reinvigorated smile, in an attempt to move the conversation along "do you have plans after this little excursion?" [break][break]

"or do you plan to hole yourself up in work again?"

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"pfft...!" [break][break]

a laugh is muffled between her fingers, with dual-toned eyes glancing up at a man who grins and smiles all the same. marisol, for once, is amused by his antics - even if he isn't the only one to have complimented her smile and show happiness in her own enjoyment. maybe it's she who was wrong, if a stranger is able to say something like this. [break][break]

he could be lying, but he seems hearty enough to be honest. [break][break]

"you don't say..?" her amusement doesn't fade, and now she lowers the menu. a waiter comes by to take their orders, and she orders some pasta - something she's haphazardly picked - before returning to their little conversation. [break][break]

"you're good at flattering and complimenting people, aren't you?"

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ah, this. [break][break]

this was the source of her dilemma, and the source of the wringing around her heart and mind. it's when his gaze softens and his tone lowers does the fear of earlier melt away, and the guilt settles in so quickly - because that's just how marisol is. all attempts to seperate herself from herself be damned. [break][break]

his familiarity isn't foreign, but it's uncomfortable. was it her, she thinks? she was the only one who was being tense and - though her nerves couldn't be eased with a simple inhale and deeper sigh - she makes an attempt to soothe the overactive nerves that can remember. marisol has trained herself to be able to breathe the air and, surely, that has to mean something. [break][break]

right?[break][break]

so she shouldn't be struggling as much as she does. [break][break]

after all, she's been through worse. [break][break]

"mhm.." she hums shortly afterwards, her fingers tapping along the menu before it's finally set down. it'll take a little bit for her drink to get here. small talk won't kill her. "it's.. okay. don't feel bad." because it's not his fault, but the words scratch at her throat like they did a few years back. marisol has put a wall around her heart, and it's flimsy in the face of her past. [break][break]

so she leans forward, defeated, hand raised slightly to reach and rest her palm against the top of his head. her fingers gently caress platinum blonde locks. she wears a smile. clumsy, and slight, but genuine.[break][break]

"my name is marisol. say mari if it makes it easier."

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