Dye

She leaves for a vacation, and comes back a new person.


She ran her fingers through her cropped bob, nails scratching scalp whenever she wasn't paying attention. She twirled a piece of dark hair in between her index finger and thumb, still unaccustomed to the ebony strands. Her entourage stood behind, closely examining their charge's steps, waiting for a command, or call.

Elesa turned towards them briskly, yellow heels puncturing Nimbassan cobblestone, yellow fur jacket swishing with every step. She waved them away, eyes cold at their hyperactive demeanor. Quickly receiving her message, they scrambled back to their respective homes, leaving the electric-type specialist alone under the cold, dismal afternoon sky.

She doesn't remember why she decided to go for such an outlandish color, it was dark, wicked, and so very much unlike her. The color clashed with her complexion, and her blue eyes seemed dimmer in its presence. With a sigh, she flicked the locks away, black nails tapped her skull, in accordance to her attempt to remember something.

Where was she going, anyway? The streets seemed much more quiet than she remembered. After spending two months in Hoenn, all of Unova seemed fuzzy, and gray. She couldn't see the big picture quite clearly, and missed the beat of the sun on her back. Languidly, she moved forward, back arching, legs pointed forwards, as if ready to dance, she moved on. A chorus of whispers followed her, each voicing the same question, each laced with concern.

They all missed her blonde hair, but Elesa wasn't one for sentimental theatrics.