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@ilysien-blog
i know i haven’t been here in 100 years but i fuckin hate pokerp lol. you don’t rip my hikari off, au and all, the moment you see i’m not active on her blog anymore. you don’t take the credit for my shit so everyone can pat your ass over how creative you are for taking MY IDEAS. fuck you, fuck this cesspool of an rp community.
if anyone wants you can follow me at @seelesdog since it’s my main rp blog and i’m on there more than my other blogs
diantha.
❛ thank you for making it, mon cher. ❜
glossed lips were gently tugged upwards into a glowing grin, heels clacking against the pavement to greet her friend. lysandre was, and always had been, extremely tall. the redhead had to lean down slightly, while the champ balanced on her toes just so they could greet each other with the normal two cheek kiss.
❛ augustine can’t make it, i’m afraid. something about his pokedex is keeping him cooped up in his lab. i hope that’s alright … ? ❜
the three had planned to go for afternoon coffee and catch up on their everyday lives, as they did every month or so, but there was the occasional letdown.
@ilysien.
of course he is courteous enough to bow his head so that they can greet one another properly. they don’t see one another as often as he’d like, but he understands that the life of an actress is a demanding one. as is the life of the director of a giant corporation, and the life of a pokémon professor. they cannot always run around doing whatever they please, and things such as this would crop up from time to time.
“it’s no issue. he is as busy as we are. there is always next time.”
lysandre draws back, adjusts the collar of his coat. all they have to worry about now is raving fans flocking diantha should they notice her. it wouldn’t be a surprise, but hopefully some will be kind enough to keep to themselves upon seeing she’s caught up in other matters.
“to café soleil, i’m assuming? it is your favorite.”
FIRE, HELP ME TO FORGET!
ind. elite four malva written by kit (x)
||La Vie En Rose||
fortunaii.
Ah… The stranger next to her did not… well, he didn’t seem entirely disapproving, but he certainly was not friendly. It seemed that many men like him roamed the streets; tired businessmen who could use a break from the lofty requirements of working all day. Perhaps Lumiose city was simply that - many people came here as a success story.
The way the waitress responds to his low commentary, it makes her curious - he had to have some part of this establishment - unlikely that he was the sole proprietor, but it could always be so. The waitress, when she returns, feels embarrassed - her Aura is flushed with shame that she hadn’t noticed. Fortuna smiles up at her, pulls her sunglasses off and to the side.
“Thank you so much. I appreciate the gesture.” A sincere compliment - the poor girl likely hadn’t met someone like her before. It wouldn’t do to be rude to someone so new to their job. “I’ll call once I’m sure of what I’d like to eat, thank you.” The waitress recognizes the polite dismissal - and, likely afraid of being rude - scurries off.
Fortuna waits until she’s gone to open the menu - soft fingertips slowly scan each bump and dip in the menu, slowly perusing it and contemplating each letter as it forms the words in her mind. Her hand skim the last letter, and she quietly closes it, flags the waitress down.
“I’ll have a Kalos Roast coffee with cream and a plain scone please.” She smiles easily, waits until the menu has been taken to speak again to the probing Aura to her left. “Sir? Is there something you’d like to ask me?”
lysandre is never rude to his workers. a little stern, perhaps, but he makes sure they are treated well. because not only do they work as waiters and waitresses, but members of team flare. some newer than others, as shown only moments before. he remains quiet until the order is placed, until the girl leaves again and the woman seated beside him addresses him. a brow lifts.
“hm...” a once-over is given, then his eyes lift to her face. something about her... well, he wouldn’t say it’s off, but it’s certainly different. with how easily she moves about despite her lack of eyesight, how comfortable she seems. would it not be rude to just ask her outright?
though, she is giving him the opportunity. how she can tell he is curious is beyond him. there has to be a reason, but the one that comes to mind seems far too ludicrous, far too unlikely. lysandre folds his hands on the tabletop, fingers lacing together.
“you move with a confidence i would not expect in someone blind,” he does not even try to avoid the word, as many might. lysandre is polite, but direct when need be. “no offense meant, i assure you. but i suppose it’s something you hear often.”
a wry grin pulls at the corner of his mouth. lysandre brings the coffee cup to his lips again, takes a few careful sips as to not scald his tongue, then sets it back down on its saucer. “it’s no issue. i’m only curious as to why. i do take pride in my eye for detail, and i can tell when something is just a little out of place. will you humor me?”
sweet ophelia.
there are many places serena had thought she’d seen lysandre. even now, still, he finds his way into her dreams, into smoke, into fire and ashes. but it had been so long since she’d seen him – so long since the trauma was so fresh that she’d hallucinate him to her bedside ; and he’d be the kind, praising man she had thought he was before the truth burned her alive / forced rock and rubble into her lungs and skin and felt herself crushed under it.
yes, it’s certainly been a long time.
long enough for her to come to terms with what a waste her love had been – if she could even call it love at all, now knowing what it’s meant to be like, with a dainty engagement ring on her equally dainty left hand, and a wedding only weeks away. perhaps she’d equate it more to false idolization ; but when other girls did that to their teachers, they were allowed to be let down easy, toting nothing along behind them but a ( temporarily ) broken heart and the memory ; she was punished to the fullest extent for her misplaced affections.
but now, in snowbelle, her only goal was a little bit of shopping with wulfric, and to confirm his role in her wedding.
but now, in snowbelle, she feels like the concrete could open up and swallow her and maybe even that wouldn’t be enough.
it’s the feeling of bile in the back of her throat, and her stomach dropping into her tip toes. it’s her shoulders locking up and becoming so stiff her arms can barely move. it’s her eyes widening and breath hitching in her throat and losing her train of thought as she trips over a chair that hadn’t been properly pushed in, hands scraping against the concrete when she catches herself.
and it’s praying, hard, that if that man asks her if she’s alright, ( the answer is no ; but she’ll say ‘ yes sir ’. ) that he hasn’t got his voice, his face – just the vividest of red hair colors.
the grating sound of a chair scraping along concrete before tipping over makes his molars clench. a hand tightens around the cup, threatening to crush it and spill the contents over his skin. but the burn he’d receive would be nothing in comparison to the ones from the cave-in. self-inflicted, in a way, as was the case for all of his other injuries. lysandre releases his iron grip, shifts in his seat just enough to catch a glance of the girl that had taken a rather unfortunate tumble.
he doesn’t think much at first. many young women had blonde hair that fell down their back in waves, but something about this one causes a lurch in his gut. it’s difficult to catch a glimpse of her face from here, but he can only pray she’s just another traveler --- and a rather clumsy one at that.
lysandre pushes his chair back, rises from his seat and plops his satchel in his place. air is sucked in through his teeth, he turns on his heel to face her. two long strides forward, he kneels before her, “pardon me. are you all right?”
GRANDE DUCHESSE.
@bryonin
our thread basically just happens because malvas message to bryony was honestly just
“come to couriway town in next 20 mins if u want an ass kicking”
bryony.
@ilysien
the first few days after leaving prison were the ones bryony spent stumbling through lumiose’s shadows with feet & tongue heavy with wine. her gift for ‘good’ behavior was an early release. her parents in coumarine had wired her some money, begged her to come home and figure things out. even sent purrloin and bisharp to her, but their pokeballs stayed at the bottom of her bag. it was all too much.
she’s staying at a cheap hotel in the south district when the letter reaches her. signed in malva’s neat hand, the paper looks too clean for bryony’s living quarters. on pretty stationary she reads an all-too-pleasant invitation to meet up with her old friend in couriway town in a week’s time. she doesn’t include how she knew where bryony was staying, but a train ticket is carefully folded in the envelope.
bisharp comes out of its pokeball for the first time in four days. both the letter and bus fare get shredded, but bisharp’s pokeball remains uninhabited.
liepard is let out two days later, the first time bryony has been sober since hopping off the prison bus. she’s showered now, trimmed her wild-grown black hair into something more recognizable, more her. the two creatures accompany her on her sprint to the corner store for bleach and hair dye.
three days later she’s let her worrisome parents know that she’ll be coming back to coumarine city, soon, that there are just a few things she needs to take care of. a week from receiving the letter, she’s stepping off the train in couriway town in shorts and a tank top, green hair shining in the summer sun and brown eyes hiding safely behind dark sunglasses.
the cafe isn’t hard to find–couriway isn’t that big. it’s nestled between other storefronts, cozy and quaint and not at all bryony’s style. she didn’t think it was malva’s, either. the bell on the door dings as she steps in and the whoosh of conditioned air breezes past her. her eyes are still adjusted from bright to dark, and the tint of the glasses, but she doesn’t see malva yet and steps up to order un citron pressé, s'il vous plait. merci. and turns to find a table.
that’s when her blood goes cold, seeing him.
couriway is the only place he feels any sense of security in anymore. it’s small, it’s not too densely populated. not many people pass through unless visiting family or trainers bound for snowbelle. it’s quiet, save for the occasional train running through, and it’s beautiful. with shimmering waterfalls and sparkling pools, grassy hills dotted with flowers. it’s somewhere peaceful. somewhere barely tainted by the hands of humanity.
he sighs into his coffee cup, keeping his gaze to the book held carefully in his other hand. thumb is pressed between the pages, and while he reads he doesn’t really process the text completely. no, he’s too focused on the sounds around him, waiting for the inevitable arrival of a woman that once put her all into working with him towards his goal for a better, more beautiful world. malva had arranged this meeting, offered cordiality and a chance to catch up. like old friends. lysandre could scoff at the thought. the news reporter, elite four member, and flare admin was rarely on friendly terms with anyone. they were all business partners to her, nothing more.
even the sound of the bell doesn’t make him look up. however, a familiar voice causes his gaze to lift just so. the cup is set back down delicately. lysandre does well to feign interest in his novel, but he continues to watch that familiar head of green hair from his periphery. he doesn’t have to see her eyes to know she’s noticed him---though, who wouldn’t? with his appearance and the overall presence he gives off...
the book is closed quietly, the rest of his coffee is finished off. the front of his vest is smoothed down before he adjusts the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. the scars that litter the skin of his arms are clearly visible, from burns and broken flesh. he tucks the book into his satchel; made of sleek brown leather. expensive. as his belongings usually are.
it’s only then that he meets her gaze. the slate blue of his eyes seems brighter than usual, piercing right through the dark lenses of her sunglasses. no smile is offered. he just stares. a brow lofts, his eyes going from piercing to fiery. a familiar fire. an angry fire. even if team flare is no more, even if he’s dropped his goals from two years ago, according to malva, bryony still thought to betray the remaining members. just to save her own skin.
that won’t be forgiven so easily.
your glasses are disgusting honestly.
so is that thing on ur head but u don’t see me talking shit, sweaty. :)
i do have replies and the like saved in my drafts! sorry to anyone waiting. i did reblog a semi-hiatus post from my main rp blog the other day. if you didn’t see it’s basically just because i’m sorta burnt out but i should be over it soon. :’’’)
——– Thank you, from Azu & Olympia.
Okay this is gonna be really extra ( since my 1k one is gonna be less extra ) but yall know, It’s not azu without extra! First off I’d like to thank all the people who stuck around, the people who rped w me ( even tho im ass at drafts ) the people who took the occasional visit to my streams, to the people who were there for a shoulder to lean on. You guys are so dear to me, you make this experience of rping worth while.
Of course, I used to be theomance, I used to have like 4k followers but it was getting stressful, so ofc i remade and here I am, Azu has grown up alot from the naive shit to a very serious shit to now, a very angry shit fkhgkg. But again, thank yall so much. for 3 years of oly ~!
Now, to the s/o’s!
Keep reading
Je crois que j'ai perdu mon numéro. Est-ce que je peux avoir le vôtre ?
“absolument pas.”
hidawned.
— WOW!! Now that was a tall human being. She glanced up to the man, mystified, bewildered, feeling microscopic in his presence. Astonishment slowly changed to envy, then self-pity, then self-consciousness, and finally: fear. Her demeanor shifted with such contrast, she was sure the change was noticeable, but carried on anyway;
“ Mister, you need to save some height for the rest of us!!! Spread the wealth! Share, even! Gimme your shoes, and you can walk around barefoot! That should lower the difference by… two inches! “
@ilysien.
this isn’t an uncommon response to him. with an impressive height and bulk to match, most either shy away or give exclamations such as... that. it’s something he’s so used to by now that it no longer elicits an annoyed reaction from him. brows loft, expression softens just so as lysandre picks up on the shift in the air around her. tension, fear, and... curiosity?
“walking around the city barefoot in the middle of summer? i don’t think that would bode well. perhaps you should learn to walk in heels.”
i want you guys to know i’ve been extremely burnt out lately. i haven’t been rping much on any of my blogs or really writing at all, which sucks since it’s something i enjoy doing.
that’s why replies have been slow as hell and maybe subpar in comparison to others i’ve done. it’s not that i’ve lost interest, i just have little to no energy lately since i’ve been making myself write nearly every day for the past six months.
just give me a little time. be patient for a bit. replies will come, albeit slowly, i just need time to rest my brain. times i’m not posting here or on other rp blogs i’m generally still lurking, but thanks to chrome’s multiple users i’m probably posting on my main blog or my twitter.
i guess this is a semi hiatus? i don’t know dfkjgkjf maybe i’ll get over this in the next 2 days or a week. hopefully it won’t be too long. xoxo luv u guys.
Me, you and our silence.
