Alison scoffs at his remark, though a smugness twinkles in her eye. She had been better than Penelope, she had always known that, but it was nice to hear it from another. Even if that person had never seen her perform.

“You flatter me, but it still doesn’t make sense that Penelope would target me – try to kill me with Celine – just to win? All for a ribbon?”

She shakes her head, knowing full-well how much she had  wanted that ribbon herself. What she would have done differently in hindsight to acquire it.

“It was just performing. Pretty dresses and music. My only crime was being better, prettier, and apparently that means its okay to kill me? I mean, they actually killed-”

She stops herself short, taking a breath as she folds her arms across her chest tightly, as if to hold herself together.

She takes a moment before speaking again.

“You said League was involved… Did you just mean Céline or, was it deeper than that?”

Familiar faces, friends, acquaintances, lovers, Louis, all flash across her vision in a blur.

Louis had worked on lights; that day they had fallen. Mandy had booked her slot as the last performance, perfect for disaster to strike and not affect others.

A sickening feeling swells in her stomach as she stares at Cillian with a gloomy expression. Had people tolerated her, hated her, secretly wished for her downfall, without her realising all this time?

Cillian Quinn

☉

Just as her eyes begin to flutter closed, an unfamiliar face appears close to her own and Alison jumps up with a scream, sitting up with a scramble of her legs.

The unnerving expression of the wild Banette catches her breath in her throat and she doesn’t hesitate to rid of what’s in front of her. She needed a better and bigger team, that was true, but she had to have some reservations with who would join it.

Not everything could match her aesthetic.

“Missy, CONFUSE RAY!” 

Her Pokémon doesn't hesitate as a flash of light erupts from the Mismagius and targets the Banette. It stumbles back on impact, it’s eyes rolling as it stands still, dumbfounded.

Alison grits her teeth and gives her Mismagius a nod. It releases a SHADOW BALL instantaneously, knocking the Banette unconscious.

“Arceus, that thing is creepy,” she stands up, brushing herself down as she stares out across the hills. She wouldn’t risk being jump-scared again.

☉

He was right, he didn’t. Alison knew all too well the shady and cruel reality that hid behind the shine of the industry she was in. Even Alison’s hands weren’t clean in that sense. But the scale of which Cillian implied someone attempted to sabotage her felt nonsensical.

At the name, Alison’s blood runs cold.

“Céline?” Disbelief furrows her brows.

“Céline Perrault tried to kill me? That’s – do you know how crazy that sounds?” She shakes her head, a dry laugh escaping from her lips, though it doesn’t meet her eyes. Her smile drops.

An image of the Kalosian lady clouds her vision. Petite, middle-aged, adorned with jewels, her Fennekin peeking out from her purse like a fashion accessory. She had the power and money to ruin Alison without getting involved, that was true. But… would she have? They had never liked each other, but had Céline’s hatred of her been overlooked? Had it run deeper than Alison realised?

Biting the inner side of her lip, she averts her gaze, her thumbs pressing onto the rim of the mug in her hands.

“It was to do with Penelope, wasn't it?” her voice is a whisper. Penelope Adalson. One of Alison’s biggest rivals. Céline had sponsored her.

Cillian Quinn

☉

Alison releases an exasperated sigh. She sits quietly on the hillside overlooking Mauville, her knees pulled in close to her chest as her chin rests lazily on her hand. She'd been here for almost an hour, hoping to find some more Pokemon to add to her team. She'd pushed herself to explore after her latest training session for Rocket, her underboss' words echoing in her head.

You had influence once, along with the power that came with it, and now you have nothing.

She shakes her head to dismiss the thought, grimacing. She knew she needed to prove herself. Prove her capabilties. Prove that she can make her way in Rocket and survive. But before she could, she had to get stronger, and building her team felt like the best way to start.

"This is ridiculous," she murmurs to her Mismagius. She allows herself to fall backwards onto the grass, her eyes meeting her Pokemon's who floats beside her.

"Something better show up soon. I'm not sure how much more walking I can do in these shoes."

☉

She feels herself fall forward at the dodge, catching herself with a stumble of her feet as her brows furrow. It was frustrating not knowing what he was going to do. She didn’t like the uncertainty.

“But how am I meant to hit if I can't predict your movements? You’re – quick.”

Readjusting her grip on the hilt, she moves a section of hair over her shoulder and purses her lips in thought. How would she take a rival dancer down?

With a breath, she presses forward again. Jutting out her sword with step, she grits her teeth as she swipes across, her eyes on his wrist that holds his blade.

jayden cross

☉

Alison was relieved he chose the café, her option of a secluded spot in the woods suddenly dawning on her as an awful idea. At least he had realised and had the decency to tell her. He could have easily taken her poor judgement as another opportunity against her.

Seeing that he didn’t, naively she hoped that was a good sign.

She sat opposite him in one of the booths of the café, watching him quietly as he sipped his tea. He was so relaxed, so in control. It contrasted heavily to her tense posture, her hands cradling a steaming coffee that was untouched and burning her skin. She was anything but poised.

“That’s – fine,” A part of her wondered desperately where he had heard the information, but if he had names, any at all, it would help her determine whether there was any truth in what he was saying. She always tried to know who she was working with – be it for her own selfish, fame-hungry reasons – so there was a high chance she’d recognise the names.

And whether she did or not would hopefully indicate if he was lying.

“The orchestrators...” Her voice is quiet. "What do you know?"

Cillian Quinn

☉

Her laugh is clear, gentle. Practised and perfected to sound genuine, disarming.

“It’s okay, really. Don’t worry. I can imagine it can all be a lot to process. I don’t blame you for not remembering. There’s always too many names…”

Delilah’s throw-away comment didn’t go unnoticed by Alison. It was something she was aware of already - her brother’s wedding - yet many details failed her. Seeing it seemingly weighing on Delilah’s mind, however, made Alison keep it in the back of her mind.

At Delilah’s remark, a smugness tugged at her lips involuntarily. Delilah Silph calling her brilliant was something she couldn’t help revelling in. It was something Alison knew already, of course, but a Silph’s word was one she’d hold onto dearly. 

“Please. You flatter me. I’ve simply learnt from the best.” She gives Delilah a knowing look.

“And, oh, this and that,” she responds, waving her hand dismissively. “There’s only so many things you can win and do in Kalos. I had to start setting my sights a little further. A little higher. I needed a new challenge.”

Her eyes drift over the crowd of the charity event, over the many unfamiliar faces that whispered and laughed over glasses of alcohol. She guessed many knew as much about marine biology as her and Delilah, and she also guessed many were here for other reasons. Many for company. Many for gossip.

Many for information, much like herself.

“I see you’re still stuck doing these pleasantries,” Alison continues, “ I can’t say envy you.” She did envy her. A lot. Even if Alison hated these charity events, there was nothing she envied more than popularity – fame. Things Delilah would always have.

“You must get sick of it sometimes. How do you manage it all with–” she gestures with her glass “–everything else?”

Delilah Silph | Outfit | Fascinator

☉

“You talk like it is just a means to an end for you,” her voice is soft but searching.

It wasn’t easy being in the industry they were in. Stardom was the pinnacle of many dreams, but once achieved, the façade can quickly drop. It was relentless. An on-going, forever changing churn of work.

You had to love the pain to get anything out of it.

“I’m not sure burnout is the word I’d use for what I felt,” she responds, her gaze dropping to her nails which she looked at with no particular interest.

“I don’t know if I was ever overworked. I probably overworked others,” A ghost of a smile plays at her lips.

“But I can understand for some the pressure is overwhelming – smothering. The exhaustion never reached me but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand. That I didn’t see it in others. Ultimately, you– ”

She goes to continue put clamps her mouth shut as the waiter returns. After he orders, she decides on the paella as her wine is refilled. Her menu taken away, she clears her throat, her eyes floating to his clenched hand.

The words she originally went to say falter.

“What’s worrying you?”

sevastian beau

☉