#{clair.}

Send me 💡 and my muse will tell yours what ability they think fits yours || Accepting

Clair

          "Intimidate,"

          "I'm joking. Keen eye, I think is a better match for you. I do not think I've ever seen you not absolutely focused on something, or without some kind of plan that comes with backup plans of their own."

          "As a hidden ability... Justified is the first that comes to mind. Actual ability aside, I think people tend to forget that quality about you— how strongly you believe in your morals and things that matter to you. But I also think you are definitely the sort to not take cheap hits without retaliating twice as hard."

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Five word sentence starters || Accepting

On any other day, Serena would have considered herself a decent enough mime. That the years of painstaking dissection of characters, and how to embody them for an audience, would in turn allow the heroine to mask her own worries and woes. But Clair is no fool, nor a stranger. Observant to point where she could see the occasional smile not meeting the blonde's eyes whose gaze holds their own eerie absence, but not to see how she has been recovering from injuries a little too quickly. How fresh cuts, pricks and grazes no longer scar over, but scab and vanish in a matter of days-- as though they were never there in the first place.

"...It's nothing, Clair. Nothing is going on,"

What could she say? 'I think Lysandre's words weren't just a threat'? 'I think the blast from the Ultimate Weapon made me immortal'? Anyone with so much as a semblance of thought would laugh at the idea-- call her an idiot, or dismiss it as nothing more than a uncharacteristically silly joke sparked by stress. And would she, would Clair, even know enough about what had transpired in the depths of Geosenge Town in the first place to entertain her theory for a second?

Her focus shifts further away from the gym leader, resting on nothing in particular-- just anywhere but where the other trainer's could see.

Forty random questions || Accepting

Complicated would certainly be one way to put it. A situation they find themselves in that should, by all means, be quite straightforward, yet finds itself balled up into an intricate but equally unintelligible mess, muddied further by perception. Perhaps they ought to be used to it by now. She, a champion-- the hero of Kalos--, and Clair, a gym leader and integral part of longstanding tradition. Nothing could ever be given the grace of being simple. To step a foot outside of their own homes, on some days, would require calculation and a marathon of jumping through what-ifs and previous experiences-- caution that would prove often to have been needless, but other times pivotal to their safety and own wellbeing.

And so, the heroine's lips press together. Eyes, embellished with the shadow of a creased brow, run over the words before her-- the same that sit in front of the gym leader's own. Had Serena feared her Kalosian to be somewhat lacking before, this would surely be cause enough for her to dive back into active study once more. Are they necessary, she wonders? Truly needed to describe the different solutions to the predicament the pair find themselves in? Surely so-- surely to someone. Yet, as the seconds pass on by, all that it accomplishes is pumping hot air directly into festering bubbles of annoyance gathering in the young woman's stomach.

What does it even mean in this context?

She reads it again. The same sentence-- again. Those same problematic words for the umpteenth time, hoping that this time, they would morph into something recognisable. Again. And again. Until a sharpened huff escapes from Serena's form.

"...I don't know,"

She concedes, with a slump of her shoulders and all but melting into the table.

Send me a ✨ and Serena will say what Pokémon your muse reminds her of || Accepting

"It might be cheating or an easy way out to say a pokemon like Dragonair or Kingdra. So... if we're ignoring dragon-types..."

Incorrect quotes || Accepting @draconscious

Serena: Hey, wanna help me commit arson? Clair: What the hell!? Serena: Oh, sorry, my bad. Serena, whispering: Wanna help me commit arson? Clair, whispering: Of course. What do you need?

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Serena: I sort of did something and I need some advice, but I don't want a lot of judgment and criticism. Clair: And you came to me?

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send me   “ what am i?”   and my muse will describe yours in 3 words || Accepting @draconscious

          “I think, for you... Resilient. Headstrong. Determined,”

Sweet and sour dialogue prompts || Accepting

          “No,”

     Her response is short, simple, and ushers itself in a low tone of voice. A frown is then quick to descend onto pale features, and the heroine’s gaze refuses to meet the gym leader’s own. ‘Sensitive’-- she had not expected Clair to call her that. She did not think the other trainer would think it wise or comforting to ask her such a question in that kind of way. Comments from a few trainers who did not recognise the blonde who had butted in on their conversation regarding battles-- how a ‘girl like her’ could never hope to be anything more than a pathetically weak trainer, and that she should head back home and leave Johto entirely. Uninvited, unwanted, and unwarranted. Arms fold themselves over her chest, and for a moment, Serena considers turning on her heel and taking her leave right then and there.

          “I’ve dealt with comments like that all of my life, believe it or not. Just not about battling.”

     In truth, Serena does not know if Clair asked her that question as some odd way to try and cheer her up or inspire confidence. Serena does not know the intention or nature behind it. Yet, the young woman’s mood soured by the insulting comments and attempts to tear her down, she hears only the words that come from the gym leader-- not to the tone, nor other possible meanings attached to it.  A sigh, sharp yet somehow blunt at the same time, escapes through Serena’s nose, nails digging into the flesh of her arms.