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@cris-denfants
Oups. I forgot I made a rotomblr…
Bonjour, I am Miel. I…train Pokémon? In Kalos? And I rehabilitate Pokémon in Galar during Kalosian summer.
I will post things, I think, and maybe interact. I don’t think anyone will, but you are free to reach out…? Er. I may forget to respond. J'essaierai de ne pas?
\\OOC below cut
happy pride month!! some aro ace Phantumps to celebrate!
I love my team, I really do, but... I don't think they understand that when I "kick" them (accidentally run into them in the middle of the night while I'm trying to go to the bathroom) it hurts far more for me than it does for them. You're made of metal, dears...
It seems this is a universal experience.
🧥 Outerwear
//OOC Post
Miel’s wardrobe is honestly best fitted to transition seasons. Summer is too hot for him to wear the trousers he prefers and in winter it gets too cold for him to show off the more intricately designed parts of his wardrobe, most of which were gifts.
In an ideal world, he’d have three layers of tops, stark white trousers, and some other decorative piece as an accent. Mainly he’s got most of a hoop skirt that he adorns with ornaments, charms, or leaves for the situation.
He also has a number of corset-like pieces, such as the Shiny Trevenant inspired one he’s wearing in the blog’s icon. He feels a little naked when it’s too hot to wear them lol. When it’s too cold to show them off he sometimes finds opportunities to do so anyway because he loves his craftsmen friends and whenever he runs out of conversation topics he can just shift the conversation to his friends.
He doesn’t wear buttons much? He wears high-collared sleeveless shirts whenever possible and prefers to just…obscure them with layers.
His favorite coat is styled like a starched white tailcoat. He can wear it over the hoop skirt because most of it cuts off nicely near his waist and the tails can just rest over the cage. It’s a pretty light jacket all things considered, but it’s his favorite.
If he needs the warmth, he’s got an old inherited black coat that looks perfect for a funeral. At least it makes him more visible in the snow?
He likes natural fibers because synthetics just feel icky to him. It hasn’t occurred to him that this isn’t a common experience and mostly thinks people that wear synthetics are torturing themselves for the sake of fashion, which he thinks is odd but doesn’t comment on.
Thank you for the ask!
Uh…so um this is a big site right-?
So Rotomblr, do any of you here like fairytales? What are your favorites?
There was a fairy tale I grew up with that I remember quite frequently even now. Maybe closer to a folk tale? Forgive me if it is not straightforward, I have not told this story in some time.
It was a story about a mother whose son died young — in her grief, she turned to the whispers in the forest. There were phantump there, said to be the ghosts of children given second life as pokémon. She wanted to find her son and bring him back. She wandered for five days in those woods, forgoing food and taking only rain for water, before she found them.
There were many of them, so many dead children, weeping amongst themselves in a dead hollow deep in the forest. She called for her son over and over and not once did they respond. She stumbled through the hollow and met each child, listening to their cries, before saying “you are not my son” and moving on. Still, there was love and desperation in every interaction, and they followed her as she searched. Eventually, there were none left in the hollow, and she despaired.
The phantump had all met her now and guided her beyond the hollow to the heart of the forest, a day of marching and crying. She cried with them every step of the way. The trail was difficult. Here, the roots were gnarled and the trees old and thick. The foliage thickened above their heads until she could see nothing but the glowing of phantump eyes urging her forward. Her feet ached, her eyes stung, and her throat burned, but she did not stop.
At the end of the path was a single phantump. He was ghostly white with burning eyes and she knew this was the son that had been taken so cruelly from her. She fell to her knees and begged him to come home. She wrapped him in her arms and cradled him until his own weeping stopped. He did not move. If he would not leave, the woman decided, she would make a home in this place he’d chosen.
Over the years, the trees bowed and knit together overhead. The leaves formed a curtain, the moss a carpet. The phantump brought them food and water and lingered for a portion of her motherly warmth.
When my mother first told this to me, it was as a declaration of sorts, a promise that there was not a force in this world that could diminish or kill her love for me. She told it to me again when I left to become a trainer, this time as a promise to wait. To let me be where I needed to be.
I’ve heard that she stays there and cares for dead children, if that gives any child-less mothers out there any solace. There are rumors that if you ever bond with a shiny phantump it is because they were important to you before their death.
Of course, it’s only a folk tale.
//Time for a
Clothing Based Ask Game!
clothes say a lot about you, and not just in the obvious ways. This is intended to be an ooc ask game, but I'm not your dad. These are soft discussion starters, so just ramble about what parts of each question you find interesting, but do try to think about things you don't normally wonder about. Let's go.
🧵 Cloth
What kind of materials does your character like to wear? synthetic, natural, nylon, polyester, leather, cotton, wool, etc. does your character have sensitive skin? do they choose style over comfort?
🎩 Formalwear
At some points in life you have to wear formal clothes lest you look like an asshole. How often does your character dress formally, or can they barely be convinced to not come shirtless to a funeral? what do they choose to wear, what can they afford, do they feel out of place? in short: how do they engage with formalwear?
👖 Workwear
Whatever you do to keep living, you gotta dress appropriately. how does your character approach workwear, do they have a uniform? if so, how do they feel about it? are their clothes there to be durable, mobile, appealing to clients, etc.? how quickly do they take off their work clothes and put on their normal clothes?
🧥 Outerwear
jackets, coats, unbuttoned shirt, how does your character layer? purely utilitarian to avoid the cold? annoyed that it's too hot to wear their fave jacket? when it comes to jackets, heavy or light? high tech like a bloktech or arcteryx, or low tech like a wool or leather jacket?
📏 Fitting
how does your character feel about tight or loose clothing? what cut are their pants, bellbottom, skinny, yadda yadda? do they size up, down, are they nonplussed in either direction? do they like to keep it tight in one area, loose in another?
👟 Activewear
does your character own anything they can move around in? Do they just own sweats so they can relax in? If they exercise, do they buy/wear proper synthetic activewear or do they wear the free shirt handed out on the street? when it comes to shoes, do they need specific shoes? how much cushioning do they need when moving and running? are they a freak who wears those toe shoes?
👙 Exposure
How much skin do they like to expose? if they have to swim, what do they wear? how do they feel about flip flops?
🛒 Grocery store fit
how much do they get on when going out for a quick errand? on a base level, with as little thought and effort going into their outward appearance, does their wardrobe make it clear they're fashionable? do they even care how people see them in these situations, and is fashion something that's only active choices, not a passive web of decisions?
🥻 Tradition
does your character have cultural garments in their closet? how often do they put them on, do they try to make it a part of their every day outfits? are they looked down on for their garb, how do they feel about others wearing their cultural clothes?
⚒️ Origin of Labor
Does your character care about where their clothes are from? do they think about labor that goes into clothes? have they bought from fast fashion, do they only purchase union made, are they aware yet willing to compromise? does your character look at stitch quality and details that set apart the quality works?
//Clothes are complicated and filled with many complex topics of discussion. I just got a few out of my head, and had to call a stopping point for now. theres so many more questions about gender, accessories, quality of craft, comfort, trends, thrifting, disposing of clothes, undergarments; honestly, however deep you thought the well is, it's deeper. Let me know if you want a round 2, I'll come up with more.
I made a new friend. She is Arnaude and she is a mortuary cosmetologist. Sometimes I think they are called that because they capture cosmos with their brushes. My mother looked almost alive at her funeral.
Pokéfuneral
... Do I even want to know what this is about?
ma mère est tombée malade et je pense que je deviens fou. a lampent has taken to her bedside
Pokéfuneral
*spinspinspinspinspinspin*
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
AaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Oh, to be in a salad spinner…
🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅ok
why on earth would you throw tomatoes at me,,?!
mm… tomato soup
mhm,,, sometimes galarians should stay in their places,,, got enough drunkards both here and back at home,,,,,
oui, á cent pour cent…trop fort…
Reblog game so I can meet more people.
What's a weird quirk you have?
What's a weird quirk your pokemon have?
And what's a weird quirk you and your pokemon share?
I'll go first:
I can speak to pokemon.
Max enjoys investigating things with his mouth.
Max and I both can speak fluent kalosian in pokespeak
I did not have access to pokéballs for a long time so my partner, Lacrima (shiny phantump), was always right there to talk to. Sometimes I still talk as if she is next to me even though she has since grown into a pokéball of her own
Zora (zoroark) loves fabric. she chooses my clothing every morning and lived out of my closet when she was still a zorua.
…I have been told that neither Lacrima nor I know the proper time and place for anything.
Name: stasia/anastasia pronouns: Any will be fine, but i prefer she/her or they/them Eyyall. I run a pokemon sanctuary for outcasted pokemon, pokemon that don't want trainers, or pokemon intelligent enough to live independently at the same level as humans, like my bestie compy. Apologies if she goes too far with ya. I'm also a ghost type specialist, who knows quite a bit 'bout neat curses an' shit like dat.
another ghost type specialist…merveilleux. wishing your sanctuary success
To all my trans trainers out there rocking Sylveon because it has the same colors as the Trans flag wishing there were more examples of it:
I hear you, and present you They literally slashing Them.
Tranche approves this message
happy new year from me and Bart~
<photo of Ector hugging his pet anchor with fireworks in the background>
Happy new year 🎆
<photo of a very wide-eyed snom with fireworks reflected in its beady bug eyes, hiding under a table>
Closed RP -- Elite Four Position Interview
Alain sips idly at a coffee, sitting at a table in front of Café Triste, reading the open document with the enthusiasm of someone running on too-little sleep and a lifetime of bad decisions that keep biting him in the back. Which is to say: absolutely none. Maybe even less than that.
Miel stares at the shaded ceiling of his room, Zora-chewed holes in his curtains speckling his room with stars. He needs a new mattress, he thinks blandly, feeling a bit like he’s laying atop a marsh with the way he sinks in.
“Ark,” Zora yips, nudging his hip with her nose. He sighs and runs a hand through her fur. Evidently, he’s missed the point. Zora shakes off his hand and backs into his closet, nosing through his trainer outfits for the fancier fabrics he keeps tucked away in the back. She emerges with a lovely gold dress and a hopeful expression.
“Non.” Miel shakes his head and sits up, frowning. “That was maman’s. I’m not wearing it to an interview.”
Regardless of his input, the dress is dropped on the end of the bed with a dubious snort from Zora.
“Why did you sign up for interview if you were unprepared?” Arthur asks from the doorway. He and Zora are almost always in agreement, Miel finds. He frowns over at his old friend and colleague.
“I believe myself to be qualified,” Miel says, watching Arthur’s eyes. They’re somewhere between green and brown depending on the lighting, but they look greener here. His eyes crinkle around the corners when he smiles.
“See? You’ll be fine.” He glances at the dress and, for the first time in the history of ever, disagrees with Zora. “Maybe not in the dress though. It would look beautiful, but they may ask for a demonstration, yeh?”
“Mm,” Miel agrees, miserable.
“Here, I’ll find something.” Zora steps aside with a stink eye to allow Arthur full access to Miel’s oversized closet, fashionable hands picking through outfits of varying levels of decadence.
By the end of the search, Miel’s bed is a certifiable treasure trove of extravagant fabrics, some of which he’s certain he’s never seen before (who put so many of his mother’s dresses in here?). He settles on a loose lavender blouse with skull-shaped buttons carved from bone. They’re his father’s bones, technically, but people don’t much like hearing that story.
“Trousers?” Arthur prompts, waving his hand at the pile. Miel squints at it. Wrong shade of purple, periwinkle-meets-its-end, red the shade of Zora’s mane, flare pants, and…wonderful. Off-white bell bottoms. He pulls the fabric closer to himself and watches Arthur’s expression pinch and then recede into the pleased-but-still-neutral expression of a man who has lived a life of customer service. “Very nice,” he says. “You’ll look dashing.”
“Ark!” Zora yips, pointing a paw at the nearest timepiece.
“Good point!” Arthur praises cheerily, whisking himself and Zora out of the room. “Best change with haste!” The door slams shut behind them and Miel is left stripping in star-spangled solitude.
—
The bicycle ride is spent in a haze. It should be dangerous, but Chandelure wouldn’t let anything happen to Miel on their watch, so they arrive at Café Triste without incident.
He turns to Chandelure with a frown. “I don’t think they’ll want you out and about?”
Chandelure’s flames flicker with disappointment but they duck down to Miel’s hip to reunite with their Pokéball regardless.
“Thank you, mis amis,” he murmurs, patting it. He steps past round tables and colorful umbrellas with a flourish, takes a deep breath, and opens the door.
Babiri lurches upwards and walks to the door, Alain only looking up from his screen when they approach a someone about to enter the café. Oh, that's him, huh?
He stands up to greet the other, adjusting their scarf as he walks over and holds a hand out to shake. "Miel Ledoux?" he asks. "I'm Alain Sycamore, Kalos League Champion. I'll be conducting your interview. Feel free to order something to drink, Babiri and I will be waiting at the table over there." He gestures to where he came from as Babiri themself turns back around to settle back in next to the table.
Oh! Alain was outside, then. Miel ignores the heat rising to his face and palms over Lacrima’s Pokéball to soothe himself. He is among friends here, even if they’re far too tall and heavy to tramp around next to him the way they used to. Maybe Verglas is small enough..?
He lifts her Pokéball from his hip and in a moment she stands proud beside him, rib-height and forever smug about it. With the added comfort of a friend, Miel smiles back to Alain and nods politely, inclining his head towards the indicated seating.
“Pardonne-moi, I did not see you at first.” He glances back at Verglas and gives her a pleading look. She sighs and pats his hand before disappearing into the shop to acquire him a drink. When he faces Alain again he is slightly flushed. “I can start whenever you are ready.”
"Don't worry about it," he assures, "Come, sit."
The lead Miel back to the tale, quickly minimizing one window on his computer to open a spreadsheet and notepad that he'd been using for all the interviews thus far.
"Okay, so, I'll preface this by saying the interviews are pretty lax all things considered," Alain starts. "The League mainly cares about merits over anything else, which we've seen some of on your application and will see more of if you pass into later rounds of the process. This is really more of a chance for us to ask you some questions and for you to ask us about anything you want to know."
“Alright.” Miel slides into a seat across from Alain and crosses his legs, eyes shifting about their surroundings awkwardly without a comfortable place to land. He settles for the back of Alain’s computer, watching the subtle movements of the device as Alain uses it.
“I don’t have all too many questions? I will ask as they come up, or towards the end, if that’s alright.” Has he seen this brand before? He hasn’t used a computer in…maybe over a year. Arthur has one, but it’s darker and…thinner? Lighter weight? Or maybe the opposite? Hm.
"Of course," he agrees. "So, just to begin, why exactly did you apply for this position?" Most bare question in the survey, Alain thinks. It makes him glad he didn't have to do an interview to get the Champion seat. It's hard to come up with a profound answer for getting to be a part of the league. Battling, he's found is the most common answer. To become stronger, to see others become stronger. Some want the recognition. Others just need something challenging enough to fill their time.
Maybe Miel should’ve prepared some responses in advance? He tilts his head and blinks slowly at Alain, considering.
“I miss seeing my team in action.” I keep getting dragged off to do things, he doesn’t say. My team is too strong to go around beating up new trainers, he doesn’t say. They miss having a challenge more than I do. Alain probably hears it all anyway; he’s the Champion. He knows what it’s like. Lacrima would probably love a chance to spar with Alain’s team, actually. More research Miel should’ve done.
"Understandable," he agrees. In all honesty, battling is some of the most fun he's ever gotten with his team. The feeling of it has... soured, after everything. But despite that, he can never quite turn away from the rush. Why else would they take on the Champion Challenge?
He types down that answer. The spreadsheet is mostly just for himself, though keeping it all organized is a good way of avoiding the future headache. Why, of all things, he is being told to deal with it instead of having Diantha do so while most of her acting projects are on hold, he doesn't know, but here he is.
"So, on the topic of that, what's the toughest battle you've ever faced and why?"
Like, an actual battle? Toughest obstacle? Does Alain mean the hardest thing he’s ever have to do? What counts as a battle? Do spars count? Do battles outside of traditional rules count? Do legal battles count?
Verglas emerges from the café with a gently steaming tea. Miel murmurs a merci under his breath and accepts it from her, setting it onto the table with one hand and brushing the other overtop her head in gratitude.
“Toughest battle…” He looks at his Froslass with a slight frown. “The first thing that comes to mind is a fight with a bunch of unfrozen Hisuian — and other — Pokémon that escaped from what was just a makeshift clinic at the time. It wasn’t the most skillfully challenging, but, uh…We couldn’t hurt them. For the first time, our objective was different and we didn’t have a precedent to follow. We had lives we needed to save and cornered Pokémon that would not go down without a fight.”
He points over at Verglas who preens slightly at the recognition. “Without any practice, I made a field modification to one of our usual formations. Verglas and the others were able to fall into position seamlessly, but it was…stressful.”
Miel frowns and weighs his other options. “I’m sure there were more physically demanding battles, but…oui. That is my answer.”
Alain hummed. That's a good answer. Unorthodox, in the way that it wasn't a normal trainer battle. Something with stakes, that required strategy and quick thinking. And it spoke of his compassion. To not hurt, but still do his best to protect others. They nod, making a note of it. Even if it didn't require skill or power. That in itself spoke leagues of Miel's character, and his team.
"Probably one of the most interesting answers I've gotten so far," he comments. "It's a good one." Strength is the measure through which most difficulty is judged in some times. Alain finds that it's truly never been strength that was his issue, but everything else.
If he was a little less powerful, but any more aware, would he have avoided the roughest days of their life? That time of isolation, blinded by the hands that pulled them in the direction of a naive quest for strength? For the idea of being strong enough to protect and help others... when in reality, maybe he was the one who needed protecting?
He shakes his head. "In that case, though, I must ask this... What do you think is the most important thing for a trainer?"
Strength is the measure were much is judged. But, it's not always the correct answer, is it?
Was it ever?
Most important thing for a trainer…? His team (the best of him). His knowledge (ever lacking). His kinship (always done wrong). His ability to get out of bed in the morning (unreliable). Resources? Strategy? Friends?
“I wish I knew,” he blurts out, then winces. Wrong thing to say. You have to know things in an interview, have to be prepared. “It was Lacrima for me,” he continues, plowing forward, mouth downturned. He’s been quiet for most of the interview, his voice soft by nature, but it is softer now. “Lacrima was what drew me into becoming a trainer…She was there for me, always. She was there through the worst parts of everything and there for the best.”
He stares blankly at the table and swallows. The wood grain on the planks that make up the table is not consistent. It changes directions between planks. Was that on purpose?
“I don’t think it has to be a Pokémon, but…a partner. A friend. Not a mentor. You can’t talk to a mentor.” Too general a statement. Maybe other people had better mentors. He tilts his head and blinks. How fast is too fast for a heart to beat? At what point do people start noticing?
The air shifts and cold washes over him, that familiar calming wave of Verglas’ attention.
“Support,” he amends. “A trainer needs reliable support. You cannot go it alone. You rely on your team just as much as they rely on you, oui?”
Babiri huffs, steel leg bumping against Alain’s own. He smiles and places a hand on the cross on their face. “Yeah,” he agrees, softly, “Babiri isn’t my ace, but I got them from someone very important to me.” Understatement. They wouldn’t claim he was and important to them at the time, nor that Alain did anything for him either, and yet. “My whole team has been with me through the worst.”
Through the isolation. The realisation. The aftermath. Even when the doubt creeps in, the ideas that he doesn’t know are theirs or if they are just planted in his head, they have his team. And he knows he’ll always have them.
Bonds. To support your team and to be supported by them, too. Nowadays, Alain thinks that’s the right answer.
They let a quiet moment hang for a second as he takes a sip of cooling coffee before asking the next question. To be honest, he thinks they know what they need to by now, which is that Miel has very handily exceeded his expectations for how these interviews go.
"So," he starts, "for the sake of filling any gaps of knowledge, what do you understand the Elite Four position to be?"
‘Strong guys who beat up eager children’ is most likely not the answer Alain is looking for, right? Is there a more tasteful way of phrasing it? Verglas nudges his mug of tea closer to him and Miel takes a contemplative sip, steam wafting over his face. The tea buys him time to think, if nothing else.
He really is mostly doing this for the team. Prospective champions would have to get through him, and prospective champions are usually pretty good at what they do. It’ll be a good workout, a way to improve, and a way to let loose in a way that minimizes who gets hurt. Hopefully.
“A position of responsibility?” Miel starts, head tilted. “They vet prospective opponents of yours and, to an extent, offer their services to the region. They are some of the most capable trainers out there.” He shrugs and slides a napkin over to himself, carefully wiping a drop from the side of his mug before it can reach the table. “Regardless of if I get the position or not, I will continue acting in whatever capacity is needed of me.” He looks back to Alain. “I am strong. My team is strong. There are lives we can save and places we can reach that others cannot. We teach, we train, and we do whatever else we can. Je ne sais.”
Alain nods. "That's pretty much it," he confirms. "In Kalos, as with most major regional leagues, trainers go through gym challenges to earn eight gym badges. With those, they can partake in a league conference, and the winner can take on the champion challenge, facing off against the Elite Four, and then the champion. That's the main duty; to measuring other's strengths and helping them to be better trainers, but the league are also expected to respond to emergency situations as needed."
He swirls his coffee. It's been a while since an 'emergency situation' required league members at all. And yet, it lingers in Alain's mind all the time, even years after. Granted, though, it's only been, what? Three years? It's little time to recover from something that left scars so deep.
"That's pretty much everything I have down," they comment, looking over his documents. "So, do you have any questions for me?"
Is it rude to ask about pay and housing in an interview? What about the laundry situation? Medical bills? Health insurance? Dental?
“Are there…employee benefits?” He asks tentatively. Verglas sighs deeply next to him.
“Yeah,” they confirm. “So, when it comes to Elite Four positions, because there's only a few people a year who manage to qualify for a Champion Challenge, let alone actually takes it that year, the Elite Four aren't needed whole year round like Gym Leaders are."
It's similar for the champion, though one is a much more publicized position. But, it is the reason why many Champions and Elite Four members pick up other jobs on the side, mostly just to fill the time.
"Since there's not much time of year where you'd be expected to actually work, outside of some appearances here and there, pay for the position is on salary instead of wage." He pulls up the numbers on his screen. Why would he memorize all of the employee benefits for a position he doesn't have? "Uh... so, as a new Elite Four member, your salary would be around ₽670,000 monthly, which is a little above average. The League also offers a 13-month bonus, wherein employess get an additional month's pay at the end of the year." Wow. They don't think he's ever looked at these numbers. It's not the annual salary of the most prolific of positions, but it's certainly high. "As for other benefits, the league has mutuelle-- so any healthcare not already insured by the government can be reimbursed by a private healthcare insurance that is paid for partially by the league and partially from your own salary, along with covering any costs for things that aren't fully insured by the government. Though you're not required year-round, you're still expected to be able to be called on, however, you're still entitled to five weeks of paid leave per year, excluding parental or sick leave."
"There's also family benefits, life insurance, and income and disability protection insurance, and care costs extend towards your pokémon as well. Aaaand, any injuries that happen during work is fully covered by the league. Of course there's also pension contributions and so on and so forth as well."
He leans back. It's a big speech, and a lot of logistics. He briefly wonders if Miel has... ever been employed in Kalos. Most benefits are required by law in the region, regardless of the field or position except for low paying jobs. His blog did mention something about Galar. As far as Alain's aware, Kalos is one of the best regions when it comes to employee benefits, so that may be why.
Merde. Why did he ever go to Galar? With that much free time, he could easily continue his work at the Rehabilitation Center with a massive pay boost and actually useful benefits. The closest Miel’s ever gotten to working in Kalos was…probably waiting tables at his aunt’s restaurant as a thirteen year old. He was paid in food and wasn’t legally an employee.
He considers his options over another sip of tea, suddenly acutely aware that he really has no idea how an interview ends. He almost wants to ask something stupid like “how’s the dental coverage?”
“That sounds amenable,” he says, quoting Arthur. He’s better at the whole speaking thing. He belatedly adds a slightly awkward but hopefully charming smile.
'It's the average working benefits in Kalos,' Alain thinks, but does not say aloud. Instead, they just hum, finishing his coffee and idly running a hand over Babiri's head. He's not sure how to end the conversation either. Why the Chairwoman left him in charge of interviews when they aren't much for conversation these days, he's not sure.
"Uh... well. I think that will be all unless you have any other questions...? We'll come back to you in the next coming weeks about testing and you'll get information about it in an email if you get through to the next round of the hiring process."
Oh, thank Lacrima, it’s almost over. Miel’s smile turns to one of relief and he nods, pushing his now near-empty glass of tea forward slightly.
“I don’t have more questions at the moment but will email you if any come up.” He stands and bows his head, steps back, gets elbowed by Verglas, steps forward, and inclines his head more deeply. “Merci for your time and for this opportunity.” Miel manages not to stumble over his words too much.
