#IRIS01.

[softestaura]

Iamgia Iris01 Dress

[mimikichu]

@rxxnbowarrow​

It’s been... an entire five minutes. That’s how long Mizuki’s been here for, Mimikyu curled up in her arms. 

The darkness around them does little to comfort her small partner Pokemon, who seems especially distraught by their circumstances. Mimikyu was a lonely sort of creature, after all, and to suddenly be apart from all of their friends and family save one... 

Well, even Mizuki with her unfaltering expression must admit to being put off by it all. Even if she were one of the strongest trainers around, someone who’s seen many strange things during her travels, she was still a child before those things.

Still, smile stays glued to her face with concerns buried deep in hopes that she can provide even a little comfort to her partner. 

[rosalinverville]

Apéritif || Iris & Rosaline

@iriskings

Winter closes in, chipping the sunlight away little by little, though usually by nine in the morning, the day would have settled in, and the customers looking for their morning coffee would have rotated out, switching places with people looking for more elaborate fares, ready to start their day. The 24-hour diner as usual, roused to life as the sun drew from the horizon. It was a rather calm, beautiful day outside, but right now, all Rosaline wanted to do was to go home.

Changing out of her work clothes, she rinsed her hands again when passing by the sink, out of habit if nothing else, and nodded at the waitress beside her who was at that moment, diligently facing off the stubborn coffee machine. “Later then, thanks for the hard work,” she smiled at her, and circled around the counter. As she gathered her stuff, Rosaline thought to herself about the approaching month of terror, about the series she still needed to finish on Netflix, about the people of Sallybrook and the smiles they brave everyday or have long given up on. But most of all, she thought about heading home as soon as possible, grab some wine, seize a nap, maybe both. Yeah, definitely both.

Then she saw a figure pull up right outside of the diner, craning their head slightly, looking through the window seemingly in an attempt to find someone. Likewise, Rosaline was compelled to do the same, and despite harbouring little intention to be sidetracked from her day plan, the outlines of the face now looking right back at her flushed away all her desires to be alone, and replaced her thoughts with one, single long faded fixation.

She rarely felt that way about anyone anymore, rarely had moments where a glance from someone could draw her down a diverging path, whisk her away from from her well laid out plans. But like anything, there were room for flexibility, there were exceptions. This was one such person. In fact, she has always been quite a welcomed diversion.

And Rosaline began thinking of her, of how oddly rare that their paths have barely crossed during the past few years. And she thought of all the time her thumb hovered over Iris’ name on her phone in hesitation, how that hesitation became uncertainty, how that uncertainly led to dissolution. Then odd and cliched it was, emotions surfaced like all this happened only just yesterday. Because in truth, she was hurt. Hurt enough by the plain dismissal to question whether their friendship was worth preserving through effort that would include her being insistent.

But at that moment, nearly five years later, none of it mattered anymore. And any hesitation, long gone. She was just glad to see her, glad and ready welcome her back into her life.

She missed her, she realised. She really, really missed her.

Rosaline sprung towards the door, her bag hanging loosely from one shoulder, tangled with her hair. She stepped outside into the crisp, morning air, almost biting, and despite her weariness, there was energy in her movement. She trembled slightly facing the bitter coldness, and landed her gaze on Iris. It’s her, it really is. A jolt of excitement manifested itself as a wide, close-mouthed grin, lighting up her features. Too much? She thought. She wan’t a schoolgirl, but she didn’t care. Propelled forward by eager steps, she called out to the woman. “Iris?”