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Walking along Route 103, Zelle crouched by a rock to catch her breath. Walking was great for cardio, but she and her Pokemon had been at it for hours, trying to find more Pokemon to catch. Unfortunately, their efforts were for naught; most of the Pokemon she encountered immediately ran away, but the few that lingered for a meager few moments, she missed with her Pokeballs just before they fled.
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Just then, Loki her Galarian Meowth sniffed the air. His eyes narrowed into slits.
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Zelle followed the line of the feline Pokemon's vision to trace what he was observing.
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A family of mice scurried about, collecting berries from a bush, probably to store away for the winter.
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Before Zelle could say anything, Loki sprung, claws bared. The mice shrieked and tried to run away.
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With a pained groan as her knees creaked, Zelle clambered to her feet, tossing a Pokeball their way.
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NOTES

+ Maushold Swarm.

BY GUNSMILE

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So she didn't know him. Zelle glanced away at the realization of her own paranoid assumption, assuming that he had recognized her.
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The man's grip was reassuringly firm and warm as he grasped her hand in his, leading her onto the dance floor. She followed wordlessly, brow furrowed over her icy-blue eyes as she met his gaze, ready to meet this challenge.
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In spite of the warmth and humanness of his grip, his dancing was lesson-perfect, almost mechanical, and Zelle found herself settling into the rhythm of it all. The dancing classes that had been drilled into her, lesson after lesson, flared to life as she followed his lead with fluid motions, silver-sequined shoes peeking out briefly from beneath the fluttery hem of her emerald gown. Their dance rose and fell with the graceful predictability of the moon pulling the ocean waves; there was comfort to be found in that, amid the unfamiliarity and mystery of a masquerade.
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"Thank you," she said, momentarily releasing his shoulder to touch her mask's brilliant green plumage, her gaze downcast in brief thought. She clutched at his shoulder again and said, "I... someone recommended it to me. I'm not the most fashion-aware."
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Her mouth quirked to the side in a half-smile. "Even so, I can tell your suit looks pretty dashing to me." The clumsy compliment fell from her lips, and she took a deep breath, collecting herself.
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"A masquerade is a pretty exciting event," she said. "Did you think you'd ever attend one of these in your lifetime?"

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NOTES

+ Outfit: Dress, Mask, and Hair[break]
+ Mission: Merry Masquerade

BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","gunstest1text"]



Success! Sia's flame breath scorched away and melted the base so that the pile was far more similar to a ball. Zelle beamed at her Vulpix, even though snowflakes were getting caught in her hair and eyelashes and would assuredly melt and make everything cold and damp. "Great job. I think that looks about a good size for the middle part. Let's make another."
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She shivered, then started working on another pile of snow. She was starting to enjoy playing with the snow despite herself, her body warming up from the activity. Goodness knew she hated the cold, but this was becoming more bearable. And Sia was being a little punk, cuddling up to her every so often so that the heat could be felt down to Zelle's chilled bones.
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"Hey, that's smart. Your progress is looking good, too!" someone called out.
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Zelle looked up from her crouch, calling back to Mei Liu, "Thanks. I see you're already finished." She paused, thinking her words over, then offered a compliment in return: "The icicles look great. That part looks like a scarf."
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Sia breathed flame onto the next pile of snow, doing her best to control the direction of the fire.


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NOTES

+ Snowboy Showdown[break][break]

BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","gunstest1text"]



"Okay, Sia," Zelle addressed her Vulpix. "Are you ready to make a snowboy?" She winced slightly, unsure why she was out here in the freezing cold amid many other laughing and frolicking participants, but another look at the shining, excited gaze of her Pokemon jogged her memory.
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"Vul, vul," the foxlike Pokemon replied, wagging her six tails and sending snowflakes flying.
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"Okay, then," Zelle said with a shrug, clad in several layers, including a puffy white winter coat, snow pants, and boots.
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She woodenly began assembling a snowboy, taking several handfuls of snow and piling it onto an already existing pile of snow. The idea was that once she did that, maybe Vulpix could use her fire breath to melt it more into a sphere shape.
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"Here goes nothing!" Zelle declared, once she was satisfied with the size. "Use Flamethrower!"
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"Vul, vul!"
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NOTES

+ Snowboy Showdown[break][break]

BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","gunstest1text"]



Wandering around the holiday trees for sale in Fortree City's outskirts, Zelle glanced around, looking for a small one. Loki, her Galarian Meowth, purred, sniffing at some of the pine tree needles.
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"We need a smaller one for our Christmas tree, it won't fit in the apartment," Zelle said. Something moved at the periphery of her vision. She turned, startled to see an Arboliva waving its branches from side to side.
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Loki purred harder, then leaped at the Arboliva, apparently set on climbing up its branches like any other pine tree.
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NOTES

+ Arboliva Swarm

BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","gunstest1text"]

As the master of ceremonies opened the dance floor and couples filled the open space, Zelle glanced around, assessing the situation with swift flicks of her gaze. It would be better to fit in and dance, rather than stand about and be a wallflower. But Zelle wasn't terribly talented at striking up conversation with strangers. Her mouth twisted into an uncomfortable grimace. She continued to stare out into the crowds of masked participants, growing more discomfited by the minute.
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Then, from behind her mask, her blue-eyed gaze locked with that of a tall, brown-haired male, clothed in a striking blue suit and immaculate white mask. Her eyes widened as the man began to approach her with even, confident steps.
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"Would you do me the honor?" he asked, and she felt herself freeze over.
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"D-do I know you?" she said, reaching out anyway to take his hand. She peered up into his light brown eyes, trying to discern any sense of familiarity.
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Does he know me?
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"I... Well, I accept. Let's dance," she said, her words stilted and awkward as she put down her wine glass on the bar counter. Swigging it down would be unbecoming, but she mildly regretted the fact that she didn't.

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NOTES

+ Outfit: Dress, Mask, and Hair[break]
+ Prompt #1: Spin-off dance thread with GIDEON GRAVES

BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","gunstest1text"]

Zelle turned the snowflake-patterned invitation over in her hands as she sat in the back of the Corviknight taxi, wondering how she had decided on spending her otherwise empty evening on a masquerade ball. She had seen the advertisement in passing on BARNABY FINCH's morning talk show while preparing her coffee last week. Some of the officers at Interpol had been assigned to monitor the event in case any intel or unsavory activities were to arise, and of course this meant a good cover was necessary, nothing like the half-baked wig and glasses that Zelle and Gunner Graves had to wear respectively for their last mission. Fortunately, with the masked nature of the event, Zelle had an easy way to disguise herself, but her concern, it turned out, was fitting in.
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She was no fashion expert, so when the invitation came in the mail, it was on a whim she went to velda glaus's House of Glaus, remembering some women at the office discussing where they would purchase their outfits. As she recalled, the brand was more than famous for its high fashion and quality craftmanship.
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Zelle stepped out of the taxi to enter the museum, careful not to step on the hem of her dress. Blinding flashes of light greeted her from the many Rotoms taking photos, and she froze, startled, before forcing herself to continue on her way, glad for the mask to hide her discomfort. A sleek, gauzy gown in emerald green clothed her from collarbone to ankle, patterned with modern geometric designs; a matching emerald mask adorned with iridescent peacock feathers and a pair of silver heels completed the look. The dress itself was high-cut and unrevealing, relatively unadorned compared to some of the more elaborate designs in the shop, though Zelle found herself hesitating still when she passed a mirror in the museum's hallway. She did not enjoy dressing up, but she looked... really nice. It was like looking at a stranger.
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Zelle shook her head and continued on into the ballroom, dismissing that train of thought. Looking like a stranger was the purpose of the disguise, anyway. Immediately, she felt nearly overwhelmed by the sheer number of people there, all clad in beautiful finery and mysterious masks. At a glance, she could not recognize anyone, and it felt familiar--lonely, if she were to put a name to the feeling.
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She walked over to the bar and ordered a glass of white wine, then stood nursing it as she scanned the dance floor for any recognizable features.

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NOTES

+ Outfit: Dress, Mask, and Hair[break]
+ Just arrived, by the bar looking around and not recognizing anyone yet.

BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","gunstest1text"]



“What the–” Zelle blurted, gazing upon Glaceon’s hailstorm with indignation as her Talonflame’s wings were battered by the hail. Usually ice would melt on contact, but the hailstones were so large that they still made a considerable impact as they hit her Pokemon.
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“Graves, what do you think you’re doing? Do you actually need real glasses?” she shot at him, directing her Talonflame to swerve and avoid the brunt of the hailstorm. As the Talonflame swooped with AERIAL ACE, she picked off several of the other Pokemon, already weakened by and shivering from the hailstones and blizzard.
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Talonflame cried out, still enraged, catching Zelle's eye. Zelle nodded and shouted, “Good job, Cinder! Now, target the Garchomp! BRAVE BIRD.”
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It was a gamble, and a painful one at that, but they had to get rid of the leader now. They were going to slice off and cauterize this head of the Rocket hydra.
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NOTES

+ Mission: Quell[break]
+ Dawn of a New Day (Attack)

BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","gunstest1text"]



Aurelie's words swirled in Zelle's mind, and she did her best to sort through them. Zelle suddenly regretted not paying more attention to the sword terminology part of her swordsmanship classes. She furrowed her brow in frustration, her speech suffering from a distinct lack of knowledge. All she knew was that it was a side sword with a complex hilt, based on some now-fuzzy explanation from her old instructor.
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Aurelie’s line of thought and conclusion sounded correct, but Zelle didn’t feel confident enough to confirm just yet.
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Zelle huffed in annoyance at herself, pulling out her Rotom phone and entering some words into the search function. Side-sword. Complex hilt. Slashing. Thrusting.
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Even though she wasn't book-smart, she could at least look up what she needed. She squinted down the columns of images, until she found something similar to what she used.
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"It looks like this," she said, brow still creased, pointing out one of the photos with a basket hilt and a double-edged blade. “It sounds like what you were describing. Sorry, I don’t know the technical terms.”
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“And, yes, I fence,” Zelle said, rotating her wrist and flexing it as she eyed Aurelie with awakened interest. “The theory of it was a little boring, but it was worth it to get to the practical part of fencing. It requires a lot of physical training, even if the fights last seconds. The reflexes, speed, and precision needed to take advantage of openings and to parry and riposte against attacks, they make all the difference in overwhelming your opponent. Having an awareness of where your body parts are at all times is important too, to be able to anticipate and avoid attacks from the enemy.”
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She paused, frowning as she re-organized her thoughts to continue, but her Houndoom nudged the back of her knee and whined. “Oh, Midnight, just... a little more patience,” she said, patting his head. She smiled at Aurelie, feeling a little more at ease than when she first entered the store. “He’s either hungry or thinks I’m overstaying my welcome. What other details can I provide?”

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NOTES

+ Mission: Putting on a Front

BY GUNSMILE