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fairy girl.

What naive words. No matter how confident a person might be about their surroundings, there were always flaws lurking in the shadows. Even not the most observant of people could predict what the future might hold. —Places in which people were so confident in the good could easily shift into evil while they were not looking. It seemed not many understood this. 

❝That may be so, however nothing is ever as it might... seem. A simple walk... doesn't tell you anything of importance about what could happen.❞

❝You are here for the contest.❞ 

Even without her unnatural skills of deduction it would be easy for anyone to figure that much out. He looked the type— in fact, everything about him seemed to scream the simple statement that he was a coordinator on the rise. She was in no position to judge seeing as her own outfit almost mocked his own, being painfully overdone all for the sake of giving her a stage presence. 

❝I regret to inform you that it has been...cancelled.❞

Damp grains of sand clung desperately to the bottom of bare feet as they made their way along the shore, closer and closer to the water. Even with the light of the moon each wave that reached the earth was immersed in darkness, looking more like ink than arcues' ale.

Even so as the blackness washes over her feet it leaves no trace, save for the slight glisten of moisture. It was cold, sending a shiver up her spine. The wind buffeting her sides only made it worse, and left her grumbling about such a peculiar meeting place within her own mind.

In fact, she would have simply left if it weren't for the sensation that she was being approached, no doubt by the clientele who had requested her services. There is no need to look at him as she speaks, so she stays facing the sea, the taste of salt filling her mouth as she asks him, ❝what is it that I can do for you?❞

Sometimes she sees things. They range between the briefest image to the most vivid of visions, featuring foreign faces and strange voices. It was the sort of thing that used to have her hide under piles of blankets in broad daylight, bidding for night to come so these sights would come to her while she was ( at least ) unconscious. 

It's rare for her to meet people from these premonitions. Despite getting them so often there was usually nothing she could do about them. This was a fact she had grown used to— her apathy crumbles in the slightest when she runs into the fairy girl.

Without thinking she reaches forwards, her hand delicately tugging at the other woman's wrist. ❝Don't go there. —It will only end in demise.❞

❝Before you speak, I have no time for your petty advances. Move along to your next victim instead, boy.❞

The air is crisp enough that it leaves a sting on the top of her nose, redness spreading from the bridge down to her cheeks. Against porcelain skin the blush must be more than noticeable, which makes her oddly self conscious. It's an uncommon feeling and leaves her drawing the hood of her sweater up, hoping the shadow would cover her face for the most part ( which of course she knows it doesn't ).

Idly she notes how much colder Johto is compared to Hoenn. —She had always enjoyed the cold weather; it fits her more than a tropical climate, she supposes. Despite this thought she draws the cape of her clothing closer to her body, preserving the little heat she held within her body. It seemed a good time as ever to return back to her heated hotel room.

However, something stops her in her tracks. It's the boy sitting on the bench. —Matty? Matsuba? It's been quite while since she hasn't been able to 'guess' something as simple as a name. But, unlike many others, he seemed a lot more complex. It intrigued her, and scared her at the same time. She walks over, taking a seat beside him on the wooden bench regardless of the feeling.

❝You are troubled,❞ she says simply, staring out at the fallen leaves as she speaks. ❝Do you wish do talk about it?❞

silver.

However, her name seemed to be getting more and more known. This would be the last ribbon needed to participate in the Wallace Cup, which would be taking place only just over a month from now. Despite not being a nervous person anticipation ran through her as she waited for the call for all coordinators to enter on stage.

The sudden voice loud in her ear doesn’t take her by surprise, but unnerves her nonetheless. She turns, staring the boy— Silver she thinks— down.

❝The coordinators have yet to be called to the backroom, which leads me to assume twenty minutes. Or so.❞

alma.

❝A legendary Pokemon...I suppose comparing me to one is appropriate, however I'm not sure if mischief fits my qualifications really.❞

alma.

❝...A seer. I suppose you could say that. Why?❞

alma.

❝No, it doesn't. —Not for you.❞

alma.

❝I don't see why clarification is relevant. —After all, this no longer concerns you.❞

                 ❝It seems I was mistaken— you're not the one.❞ 

                                               D O L L H O U S E 

                                         ( i see things that nobody else sees )