#verse. post.

" me? born an angel? non, non... " voice lowering to a soft whisper the more she spoke, eyes as blue as the sky looking down at her own hands before settling on the other champion's own. it was silly, really, known for her 'beauty', being both cursed and blessed with and for it. suffering and joyous bliss all because of her apparent 'lovely' appearance. angelic, they played into it. both in acting and in fashion. even her champion's outfit--her knight's armour--were not of metal and sheen, but instead of fabric and wings. pure white then pressed rainbow upon the process of mega evolving--like bismuth, she shined in many colours.

even so, diantha felt no comparison to the real angel before her. as composed as she might, she admired the paldean champion. perhaps more than admired. both dealing with their own missives yet still shining so brighty. geeta like a diamond, the real diamon of the two, in the kalosian's own opinion.

" i don't believe i am...angels are radiant and beautiful, they command and take charge... "

the softest of chuckles, diantha's hands wrapping around geeta's.

Diantha let out a soft chuckle, she didn't entirely like to think about her hometown. Yet there was joy to it, there was good in the city, even if it was hidden beneath so many layers of convolution and mystery. After all, Anistar was not only of her origin, but of her brother's, of Olympia's...

" it's kind of silly now, i don't really make that sort of thing public, maybe i'd just prefer to leave it behind me. "

She shook her head, the Champion's gaze looking up at the grand Sundial before turning her gaze towards Serena.

" do you ever feel like that? wanting to leave something behind you, never look back. "

"Happy Palentine's Day. I thought it would be nice to give a few gifts to those I am grateful for."

Perhaps the collection of Kalos's one and only knight-champion was growing, and yet often were they delivered by another. Through mail or tossed like flowers upon a stage without a thought, only to gain the attention--the admiration!--that so came with being noticed by someone of apparent grace. She remembered the gifts from those she believed to be close, just to stab her in the back, through luxury and business.

Yet there was an art to gaining a prize from the hands of the one that wished to give. Diantha held the earrings between her fingers, fiddling with them for a moment before placing them so carefully back in the box which they were kept safe within.

" these are all so beautiful, serena. "

The word beautiful held a poison to it, a sting of bittersweet meaning with every event that has passed in the last few years. Even now, it holds a weight that she wished would simply fall away. A wave that continued to grow and had yet to fall apart or crumble.

" he was only partially right. "

She sought to correct, even if just how 'accurate' the man's assumption was...nothing excused what Lysandre wanted to do. Nothing excused trying to cull a population just as one might till a field. It was disgusting, abhorrent.

" if you imply that it ' wouldn't be so bad ' to restart through the massacring of living, breathing, THINKING people and pokemon, you may need to rephrase your question. "

She had no tolerance for it, not after what happened. Not after just how close he was.