[attr="class","fayepost"]

silence engulfs him, her, everything around them. it feels as though something shifts with the world all at once, the noise and the excitement fading and fading until they're in their own little bubble. a small corner away from the rest of the population, just them and this weird something lying between. it's almost unsettling in a way she doesn't comprehend. usually silence is welcome, comforting even... and yet, with him, with her, it's odd. she wants to fill the air with words and sentences and meaning. nothing comes and she stands there, at a loss of what to say, what to do.

and then, he's scoffing out a remark about this being a festival and she's fighting to keep the eye roll at bay. it comes despite her attempts to stay civil, calm, tranquil. purple eyes roll and she's unable to stop herself. "obviously," she murmurs, polite tone wavering slightly with annoyance. it's difficult to maintain that polite air and he's difficult and god, she doesn't understand why he keeps coming around. is there some magnetic pull? is there something more? she doesn't get it, doesn't want to entertain thoughts of such a nature any further. "i didn't think you would come to such a thing." it's honest and her head tilts as if expecting an explanation. he doesn't owe her one and with the understanding that she probably won't get one, she falls silent.

his eyes avoid her own and it almost strikes her as odd. this is the man who stared into her soul in a clearing, who analyzed her eyes with his own for far too long to not feel comfortable staring at them again. she wants to ask about it, wants to poke and prod until she's satisfied with the answer. the chance never comes, however, as his frown distracts her and her eyes follow his to land on her hands, on the flower that digs sharp thorns into soft skin.

it falls away and she's gasping, wrist instinctively struggling at the sudden contact. ah, but his touch is gentle, perhaps even kind, and any resistance dies in her bones. "not an idiot," she murmurs as if he doesn't know what he's talking about. the examination of her hand feels uncomfortable, as if he's looking at more than just the cuts and pricks of red. she doesn't like it and yet, she's almost sorry when it ends. the spreading of medicinal balm is quick, efficient, and the touch is gone.

his expression calms, perhaps with satisfaction that she's no longer injured, and it's a strange sight to see. soothing, pleasant, and she doesn't like the effect it has on her. her gaze averts away from him, drifting toward the crowds as they pass with faceless people and silent moving mouths. it's still just him and her in this small booth, tucked away in some corner of the world that she can't recognize. is it normal to feel the world continue on around you and to not even care because it doesn't compare to this? an odd feeling, an unsettling realization, and she's shoving it away for later.

"what?" an eyebrow quirks up and she can't help but lean in, curious and confused all at once. he's giving her back the flower she offered him? "why?" faye can't help but question him, question the intention. it's probably nothing, not relating in the slightest to her earlier sentiments when offering the flora to him in the first place. perhaps he doesn't even want it and simply just wants to return it back to her possession. either way, her hand is tentative as it rises, joining his at the stalk of the rose. she bites at the skin of her bottom lip as their hands brush together and then she's stilling her actions, eyes lifting from pale petals to his eyes. "i was giving it to you," she whispers as if there's a fragile thing between them and if she speaks too harshly, too heavily, it'll crumble into ruins. "why would you give it back?" faye doesn't understand, even as she tries to weigh the possibilities in her mind. her thoughts settle on one and it brings about an avoidance of his eyes, a heat she doesn't recognize rising to the skin of her cheeks. she's foolish and misunderstanding the situation... that's all.

sorry for the wait bby ;u;
@ken

[attr="class","leaguecard"]

it's odd, really, to not hide behind a mask for once. it feels weird, foreign, wrong. as if she shouldn't be showing this side, showing this level of honesty. it's almost as if it's painful to even rip the mask away by now, the jagged pieces cutting her face as they go. it hurts. it hurts to be vulnerable, to be so small and fragile and weak. and yet, it offers a strange sense of comfort, of knowing that someone could see this side of her and not leave.

no, he doesn't leave. in fact, he stays, and she isn't sure which option is worse.

he stares at her, one of his hands moving to take her own. her breath catches in her throat, her body going still at the sudden warmth. it's comforting and radiating heat and god, she had forgotten what it was like to touch another living person. and in this moment, she understands what it's like to be starved of touch, to marvel at such a simple gesture as holding hands. it brings a feeling she can't describe to the surface and her chest feels tighter than before. panic doesn't rise, however. something else takes its place, something she doesn't understand right then and there. perhaps in time she'll come to understand this feeling and why it only has to do with him. for now she simply stares back at him, her small fingers curling around his. it's funny, she hadn't thought that her hand could fit so well in his.

the woman doesn't put up a fuss when he begins to lead her toward the waters edge. if anything, she welcomes his help, his gesture of caring. the silence that consumes them is comfortable and she's thankful for it in a way. there's no urge to fill that silence with empty words. no, instead it almost speaks for itself and she lingers in it, almost unwilling to break the spell that falls around them.

he does, however, in a display of something she doesn't fully understand.

his hand falls away from hers and she glances down, the sudden feeling of coldness overtaking the nerves of her hand. it feels wrong, now, and she inwardly curses herself for that. while she's absorbed in her thoughts, he takes the opportunity to scribble on a notebook and it's only the sound of paper tearing that draws her attention back to him. her face twists with confusion as he presents the torn sheet to her, as if it's the weirdest thing in the world. the confusion dissipates as she gingerly takes it, eyes scanning the contents. a small smile begins to curl at her lips, surprisingly genuine and entirely for him.

"ken," she murmurs, testing out the sound of his name on her tongue. it sounds pleasant, perhaps almost too much, and she resists the urge to repeat it again. does he find it just as enticing coming from her mouth? she doesn't linger on that thought, a light flush beginning to dust her cheeks. "faye," she offers, gesturing toward herself with cold hands. "are you sure you want to give this to me? you aren't afraid i'll abuse that?" and oh, she will abuse that number later down the line, when she can't sleep and needs to talk to someone, him.

she ignores the slight flutter in her chest when he says he'll find her, chalking it up to nothing more than slight anxiety. his attention shifts away from her, then, and hers follows with curiosity. a goldeen sits at the water's surface, cheeks bulging slightly. beside it, a corsola peeks out with bright coral limbs and she finds herself bending, lowering closer to the water. by now, the smile has grown softer, morphing at the sight of the water type. "hello," she murmurs, reaching out with that same hand he had just held to gently caress the tips of coral. they feel damp, water still clinging to their surface, but pleasant to the touch. the corsola coos, leaning into her hand without a second thought. ah, what a darling. "i love your color." it's a lovely shade and faye stares, almost in a trance. she's seen some flowers possess that same color but never as impressive as this corsola, never with the same liveliness to them.

her shoulder brushes against his and she turns away from the corsola for a mere moment, flashing him a surprisingly warm smile. and then, she turns away, back to the corsola and away from his eyes. together, they sit in silence, two water types enjoying their attention.

@ken
befriending corsola <3

[attr="class","silpc-LEAGUE"]

[attr="class","silpc-LEAGUE"]

[attr="class","silpc-LEAGUE"]

the snom is gone, the crisis averted, and she's miraculously still alive. that definitely could have gone better but... wait. where did it even go? it was just there, right? she blinks, confusion beginning to settle in. did it run? did tobu just yeet the thing away?

no, it didn't run and tobu didn't do anything of the sort. instead, it occupies one of her safari balls, the wiggling device finally stilling on the ground. a capture. ugh, really?! how in the hell did she manage that? is it mean to just release it right here and now? probably. is that even a thing here? probably not. and so, with a scowl, she hesitantly picks the newly filled safari ball up off the ground and clips it back to her belt.

"tobu," she groans. "let's go." her irritation is palpable, filling the air with animosity. sure, it's also written all over her face but she doesn't even spare the butterfree a glance. instead, she simply stalks toward the exit, more than over the safari zone now. stupid place with its stupid bugs.

something causes her to pause, however. the brief flash of purple in the corner of her eye. odd, she didn't think anything in this place was such a pretty purple. it almost reminded her of the vibrant ends of her hair, violet and glistening in the sunlight. the woman turns and stops abruptly, eyes scanning the bushes. she finds the source of such a color and honestly, it's a little surprising. a budew with purple decorating its body? truth be told, she's never seen anything like it. and so, despite already being fed up with the safari, she steps closer, crouching to get a closer look. the budew cowers slightly in response, a soft whimper escaping it.

"oh," she murmurs, a soft smile beginning to form on her lips. "i'm not going to hurt you, little baby." the budew still seems frightened, pressing closer into the bush it had been using for cover. the woman extends a hand slowly, tentatively, as if to not spook the baby further. "you're okay, i promise. i was just admiring your purple!" her smile widens and the budew shyly glances between her face and her hand, uncertain. "it's very pretty," she coos. "you must be quite proud of it!" at this compliment, the budew coos back and shuffles toward her hand, shyness beginning to melt away.

the little budding flower is adorable and she finds it hard to not fall in love with it right then and there. come on, just look at it! how could anyone resist that face? "do you wanna grow into a beautiful flower some day?" this earns a noise of excitement from the baby as it bounces in place, brushing against her hand with each movement. "i could help you if you'd let me! i have a bit of a green thumb." a light giggle escapes her before she reaches her idle hand toward her belt and pulls her final safari ball out. placing it before the budew with a sweet smile, she coos once more at the baby. "it's up to you!"

she knows this little thing is capable of beautiful flowers, perhaps even prettier than the ones she grows in her garden. oh, it'd be the prettiest flower of all! she can only hope that it's willing to allow her to help nurture it further, to watch as it begins to blossom.

safari uwu~
come to mama, shiny bib :fwoggie:

once the newly filled safari ball is clipped safely back on her belt, faye turns to leave. she came here for an eevee and now that she has one, she doesn't really need to linger any more, right?

except, the safari has other ideas and a snom stands in her path. the cute little icy caterpillar looks positively revolting to the woman and her shrill shriek echos off the trees, startling the wild pokemon around and effectively sending the snom catapulting toward her in fright. oh god, that thing scrambling across the ground is total nightmare fuel!

"tobu," she shrieks, scrambling backwards. "do something!" the butterfree stares for a moment before quietly fluttering forward. without her very handy human shield (thanks ken xoxo), she is practically bug food for the little creature. god, this is terrifying. is this how she dies, at the hands of a snom? oh lord.

tobu manages to stun the creature with a perfectly timed stun spore but it's too late. the caterpillar is already too close to her and oh god, she's panicking. arms are flailing and things are flying. one thing in particular, an empty safari ball, gets dislodged from her belt with a swing of her arm and bounces away from her body. she screams again, scrambling and scrambling and effectively kicking the safari ball away because god she just needs to leave right. now.

the ball rolls into the stunned body of the snom and it disappears in a flash, the woman still screaming as tobu just stares at her. he knows she'll be upset once she stops all the yelling and opens her eyes long enough to notice that the little icy caterpillar is now within one of her safari balls but... maybe she won't notice?

no, she definitely will and tobu isn't sure if she'll be angry or embarrassed. probably a healthy combination of both, right? either way, he has a new bug friend!!! yay!

safari uwu~
panic capture? panic capture. :yugis:

really, it's becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the ashes that scatter across her floor. she couldn't have finished her cigarette before stepping through the door..? it's not really her business to judge but god, it might take a few days for the shop to air out once this is over. with this in mind, she nonchalantly moves to open a window, fresh air slowly beginning to filter through the shop. that might solve the smoke problem but the ashes? they have to go.

a small smirk rises to her lips as the woman begins complaining. of course, she has to be polite so this woman will continue to help her but the need to mock, to tease, rises without hesitation. a harmless quip wouldn't hurt, right? and so, with all the innocence she can possibly force, she murmurs toward her. "well, flowers grow all over the place so technically those are free, yes?" her features maintain their feigned innocence as she turns, gaze dropping toward the ashes before rising back to the woman's face. "there's no real difference between weeds and flowers. it all depends on the gardener so in your eyes, yes all flowers are weeds." her sister had explained that many years ago, when she had grown panicked at the sight of white clovers beginning to grow within her little garden. to her sister, they were great for attracting beedrill... to her, they were weeds that must be exterminated. of course, the lesson that had been learned was that even weeds have their appeal and it still holds to this day. she'd never bring it up to her sister, but she had begun leaving some weeds alone whenever they grew, so long as they weren't invasive and left the rest of her lovely little plants alone.

faye merely offers a smile in the face of the woman's tone, the mask staying firm. it's obvious she has no interest in anything other than getting this done quickly and really, the butterfly woman can't complain too much. the less time spent around this woman, the better. her smoke is beginning to sting at faye's eyes and if she's being honest, it's taking everything in her to not make more comments about putting the damn thing out. she needs to stay composed, maintain the mask until the woman leaves and the shop is clean. otherwise, the place will still be a disaster and she'll be back to where she started. it could be worse, right? "that's the spirit!" her own tone is clipped, strained, perhaps even mirroring the woman. she doesn't bother to even wonder if she's mocking the woman, instead opting to saunter away to her own tasks. the woman will be fine.

she doesn't know her shop is currently being ruined even further by a literal heap of garbage. her mind is elsewhere as she gets to work on maintaining her garden, soft gloves already slipping onto her small hands. once she steps back inside, she'll more than likely have a miltank but for now, the woman and her little trubbish are left to their own devices, the latter leaving gross streaks across the floor with every movement.

the woman's voice filters out toward her and her hands still, hovering over some small weeds. "okay," she calls, glancing back toward the door leading into the shop. after a slight pause, she adds, "if you need a trash bag for the ones you want to take, there's some in that bucket of supplies." with that, she moves to carry out her work, thoughts already drifting away from the woman inside.

it takes a little while, no more than an hour, before faye is finally satisfied with the state of her garden. all of the weeds and wilted flowers have been removed, discarded in a small pile beside her. she is considerate to not just throw them in the trash can by the door, instead saving them to give to the woman. she had needed dead flowers, anyway, and these scraps will not provide any use for the florist. she stays outside for a bit longer, however, if only to give the garden another glance over. everything looks healthy again, pleasant and well-kept. one task on a long list now done. and so, she gathers the pile beside her into her arms and rises to her feet, lips beginning to curl into a small smile.

"how's it going in here?" she inquires as she steps into the doorway. it takes a few moments before she notices the state of the floor, the ooze that forms a little trail toward the part of the shop where the woman now lingers. her eyes widen and for a moment, she considers yelling, screaming, throwing the dead flowers in her arms. "um," she begins, unable to tear her eyes away from the disgusting slime. "what is that and why is it all over my floor?" oh boy.

@jane