Fall settles in the atmosphere and her people come alive in the chill of the night. It is a time of movement, leading to the celebrations they hold in the growing darkness. while the rest of the world has been lamenting the acts of the megalopians, the destructions of cities and lives, her people have been dancing in the crevices of the night.

The world is changing, the shift in the air, as if all the spaces they see and can be are shifting into one, it brings them alive. Isra observes it with an unusual glint in her eyes.

A disruption, it almost goes ignored. The watchful eyes of her mother glare at the device in her hands. Isra strives to ignore her more than the message, there are already many things for her mother to pick at when the night is over. There is more for her to try and destroy if she finds out about it and Isra keeps herself guarded when the woman inquires.

The priestess excuses herself from her people, no other could pry her away but him.

x x x

Her gardevoir brings them to the shadows, her banette has kept her in them with his own as they tread through the city streets. There is no clicking of heels to announce her arrival tonight. The Nightingale is silent in her endeavor, the gardevoir already tucked away with only the ghost still at her side.

A tap on her hip brings the shadow of the ghost out into the open with her. It moves faster than she does across the pavement, the shadow forms a step that she takes with quiet glee.

Closeness makes her blatent, Remiel will find her chin on his shoulder in greeting. Gavin is met with a small wave. Should others be there to see her entrance she does not seem inclined to comment just yet.

The ghost lingers in the shadows behind them, watchful and waiting.

Remiel Calcifet & Cillian Quinn
>>Isra excuses herself from her duties for obscura, you better be happy remy
>>Greets remiel & gavin and waits to hear whats going on

It jumps from a rafter with laughter on its lips and Isra bursts out laughing when it clings to the furs of her fox. The Zoroark takes several degrees of offense to this action, deciding rather quickly what she thinks of the beast cackling on her back as she reaches with energy infused claws, looking to remove it from her back. The beast detects it long before it can connects and lets go of the pokemon.

It hits the floor running and is making off for some far corner of the mansion before Isra can regain her composure. The fox is not nearly as entertained and wonders off from her master in embarrassment. They'll catch up shortly, in another room no doubt.

>>passing

• player/ooc name: endless
• character tags: Isra Nightingale evan fader Maiya Thompson
• dropped characters' tags (if applicable): xxx
• ic posts for characters: isra, evan. maiya
• any notes/comments: ilu all i'll be back after i get genshin out of my system

Isra finds a trail of will-o-wisps down the hallway, leading to a room that looks old, left behind. Dust settles on the surfaces of the vanity and nightstand. There is something oddly familiar about it and when Isra thinks about it, the space almost looks like her old bedroom. The one from many many years ago, in the house in slateport. The estate that no longer stands, destroyed when Rocket first invaded the region.

Is it a trick of the ghosts or is just that the room had been so outdated it was the same type of furniture that would make an old mansion seem particularly haunted and creepy?

The ghost blinks into sight with a new flurry of will-o-wisps, the ghostly energy from the midplane a familiar feeling to the woman. The pokemon has not been there long and it makes the energies gentler than they could have been, though she braces herself still. The pokemon chuckles at the sight and Isra meets the sound with a grin. The pokemon at her heels readies an attack and Isra cuts it short as the ghost comes to dance around her shoulders.

Just like when she was a child, how imp would dance for her and nestle into her shoulder.

Isra pulls the ghost in gently, it snuggles itself into the crook of her neck. Surely they are meant to make it home together.

>>capturing!

Isra listen, thinks for a moment. The challenge seems to come in two forms and she wonders which will be the most damning to face. An analysis of sorts could produce interesting outcomes, but going straight to the heart of things would be a different matter all together.

She has never been a woman willing to do anything less than break down the door.

"I will allow your pokemon to probe, however I must ask certain things be left untouched. My life takes me many places and to see many things. Some of which cannot be shared with the general public, or with you." she taps a ball, producing her own psychic type. The shiny gardevoir having been at her side for so long knows her cues better than many of her pokemon.

"Lucille will keep an eye on my temperament, on how this is effecting me and what is being prodded at. If she feels we tread the wrong direction she'll make it know. It will be respected." the last part is not a question. It holds a weight greater than most words the woman speaks.

"So long as you have no objections, we may begin."

Thomas Benoit
>>no worries I've been a little all over myself anyway!

She does not resist him as he pulls her closer still. Isra leans into him, enjoying the pleasantness of their closeness. How his warmth feels against her skin, how she breaths a little easier beneath his affections. Of all the things to do, Isra closes he eyes, but not because she no longer wishes to look at him. No, she wants nothing more than to enjoy this and the sound of his voice as he speaks to her of the notions she can't quite wrap her head around.

Without thinking she smiles, soft and sweet and genuine. For a moment she thinks he might be correct. Something about this feels..... "You remind me of my garden."

"You make me feel the same way I do when I am sitting in my gazebo, waiting for the sun. Or when I am tending to the flowers while the moon is still out. Things feel quiet with you." she does not expect him to understand, she cannot tell him the same pretty words he has told her. They do not come to her and they do not mean anything from her the way they do him. She can only give him the words that are on her lips now, cryptic as they may seem.

"It is the only place that has ever truly felt like it was mine." barely a whisper, if they were not already so close he might have missed it. Perhaps that is why she feels compelled to shift until she can press her forehead against his shoulder, hiding herself from him but seeking the warmth of his presence all the same. Hiding the uncertainty in the moment, the vague worry he will not understand and the lowering of her tomb like walls may be for nothing after all. The hope that anyone else could understand what that means to her feels like such a lost cause.

It is the first time Isra feels the need to try and fill in the silence between them, knowing in a way that it is only because of herself now and not because of him. Despite how strongly she wishes to speak and move away from this, further into the morning before she can regret that she has stayed she cannot find the words to say. They aren't even fleeting.

There are none. What else could she possibly say?

Remiel Calcifet

There's fire in the lanterns and chandalures dangling from above. The second floor seems like a delightful place to lurk about in Isra's mind. She almost claps again with glee as the flames surge. One burst forth just as she walks by, the heat flaring against her shoulder as she passes it. If the pokemon had hoped to startle her she was the wrong target to choose.

Her fox is far more on edge, clinging to Isra's side as if they might be struck at any moment. Her fur raises with tension and worry at what might be lurking. Isra sets a hand on the pokemon's shoulder and she steadies, if only a little.

>>Passing

The bird fumbles the release but the arrows hits true, the ghost cringing at the contact, recoiling but holding his ground as the other pokemon flees. It runs right into the mine like will-o-wisps, scattering the field, near impossible to avoid without caution and care.

Isra whsitles and the ghost finds his bearings, unable to give in to the weight of his captured shadow. Instead he holds the doll hands of his out in front of him, ghostly darkness coiling and forming before him. The shadow ball soars across the battle field, seeking the bird without mercy for its burning wounds.

Selena Desmarais
>>Banette takes damage!
>>Banette uses shadow ball!

The growl is almost haunting as she takes to the stares, somewhere on the second floor lurks the pokemon responsible. The creaking in the wood is soon accompanied by the yowling of the catlike pokemon and it's almost enough to make the woman chuckle. She's truly enjoying the atmosphere.

The fox takes to the walls, almost as if she plans to hunt the pokemon of her own accord and isra places a finger over her lips. The pokemon is quizzical but obeys.

They make their way down the hallway, the yowling continuing to make itself known in the background.

>>Passing

He makes her laugh, soft and gentle. "I'd need lines worth forgetting first." and there's an ounce of truth in that statement. If there is a script somewhere in her head that fits this moment she cannot find it. If it holds words worth saying then she would have liked to know what they are because right now she lays lost beneath his touch. He moves, and it brings her back to him and of the depths of her books of scenarios and the right words to say.

Isra finds her eyes drawn to his hand on her's as he settles in next to her. Remiel's touch feels foreign and welcome all at once. There's something warm here, in the air between them but it does not stifle her or make her think of it's wrongness. She knows deep down she should rise from beside him and leave him cold and wanting.

But he speaks and she leaves the idea where she found it. In words that are not her's.

"Right..." it's no more than a whisper. She finds herself not quite understanding what he means. She looks at his face, as if there might answers in his eyes and the shape of his lips. If there is one, Isra does not know how to find it. She laughs at herself for thinking that's possible, the sound cut short by her words. "I don't understand. There's nothing about me that could possibly be right to you."

How that sounds is lost on her, there's no concept of the sadness in those words in her world. They are only reality, a truth she has already accepted. Her world is set in stone, her beginning and end pre-ordained. He is not a part of it, she cannot be a part of his.

Not yet.

Remiel Calcifet

There's a flash of annoyance there, when he pries her away from her reading. It doesn't last long, she allows it to slip away, easing into the kiss he plants on her lips in its place. She let's him take it completely when he nips at her lip, so much so that there's a half smile waiting for him when he leans away from her to take his new seat.

"You weren't using it anymore." she states matter-of-fact, after all he wasn't in it when she took it now was he? Her eyes drift from him back down to the pages. She skims them again, eyes wandering from line to line.

She sighs. "There are a few... curious old remedies in here. Nothing terribly alarming." or what she was hoping to find, but she doesn't say that aloud. There were more pages after all, she could still find it. Her eyes linger on the book still, as if she can't help but think it's hiding something from her.

Remiel Calcifet

"You jerk!" of course he keeps running, she would expect no less of Fernando and in a way that's okay. There's a certain delight in chasing someone and if anyone might actually make this fun it's Fernando. Not that she'll let him know that right now.

Isra stops short, planting her feet in the grass and the dirt. Her ghost has been following in the branches above them, a barely there presence that she expects to be there no matter what. Her fingers reach her lips and the sound is sharp and loud.

The banette cackles as he drops from the trees and slips into the midplane. Once he's there her pursuit can continue, following in the direction he'd been running, her anger seems to slip away as she moves but only slightly. slightly.

FERNANDO SILPH

It scurries in the shadows, its coral body scrapping against the wood of the mansion and the scratching noise coming from the darkness might have left most others unnerved and on edge. Isra found it curious, and without hesitation she was drawn towards the sound. When the shining light of the power gem looks to confuse and confound her she can only grin and whistle for her pokemon.

The Zoroark is quick to move, her agility allowing her to close in on the pokemon as she searches the darkness with deadly night slahes carving their way into wood until they find their mark.

Isra through a ball, and moves on.

>>capturing