(This is a mature, closed RP between me and @Raspberry James. Viewer discretion is advised.)
Carolee Brynn Livingston. Or as she preferred, CB Livingston. The outcast of the esteemed Livingston family of Kalos. One of many esteemed families. But the only outcast of her condition. CB was a girl who saw ghosts. She was the girl who talked to things nobody else could see, played with things nobody knew was there. And they thought she was insane.
So they sent her off to live alone in the small town of Vanville, and supplied her with money each month so that she never needed to work a single day. Where she couldn't ruin parties and spoil balls with her strangeness. One of her mansion's many Gothitelle as her only companion, and caretaker. She was the only one who understood the young mistress' plight, and they bonded over the years as CB lived in depression and solitude. And Gothitelle finally had a master to weep the death of, after she looked into the future and saw it with her own eyes.
That particular day had been haunted by gloomy clouds. As if preparing for a hail that just wouldn't pour. Matching the mood of the strawberry blond sitting by the window in a humble house just on the outskirts of the town. Her straight, silky hair was styled into a medium length bob, as her bangs were tucked behind her ear. She hugged her stocking covered legs, curling into further into her milk white coat. The gray of her eyes looked absently through the window's glass, finding nothing in particular to focus on.
Gothitelle approached with a glass of hot cocoa. It was a chilly, windy day. But inside the house, you could hardly tell. Maybe that was why so many ghosts decided to enter. 'Fine.' She'd told them. 'As long as you leave right after the weather clears up.' CB had always allowed many ghosts to stop by anyway. It got desperately lonely. In fact, people in Vanville thought herself to be a ghost. Appearing by the window every now and then. Well, she couldn't blame them. She hardly ever left the house.
'Cocoa, milady.' Gothitelle said telepathically, serving the cup on, literally, a silver platter.
"...Thank you." She took the cup, and placed it by the sill next to her. Gothitelle restrained a sigh. It hurt her to see her mistress suffer this way. Slowly fading into mental seclusion. Yet giving a polite bow, the Pokemon turned to head outside. Her future sight had shown her that today was the day her mistress would meet a person that would hopefully change her life for the better.
Carolee Brynn Livingston. Or as she preferred, CB Livingston. The outcast of the esteemed Livingston family of Kalos. One of many esteemed families. But the only outcast of her condition. CB was a girl who saw ghosts. She was the girl who talked to things nobody else could see, played with things nobody knew was there. And they thought she was insane.
So they sent her off to live alone in the small town of Vanville, and supplied her with money each month so that she never needed to work a single day. Where she couldn't ruin parties and spoil balls with her strangeness. One of her mansion's many Gothitelle as her only companion, and caretaker. She was the only one who understood the young mistress' plight, and they bonded over the years as CB lived in depression and solitude. And Gothitelle finally had a master to weep the death of, after she looked into the future and saw it with her own eyes.
That particular day had been haunted by gloomy clouds. As if preparing for a hail that just wouldn't pour. Matching the mood of the strawberry blond sitting by the window in a humble house just on the outskirts of the town. Her straight, silky hair was styled into a medium length bob, as her bangs were tucked behind her ear. She hugged her stocking covered legs, curling into further into her milk white coat. The gray of her eyes looked absently through the window's glass, finding nothing in particular to focus on.
Gothitelle approached with a glass of hot cocoa. It was a chilly, windy day. But inside the house, you could hardly tell. Maybe that was why so many ghosts decided to enter. 'Fine.' She'd told them. 'As long as you leave right after the weather clears up.' CB had always allowed many ghosts to stop by anyway. It got desperately lonely. In fact, people in Vanville thought herself to be a ghost. Appearing by the window every now and then. Well, she couldn't blame them. She hardly ever left the house.
'Cocoa, milady.' Gothitelle said telepathically, serving the cup on, literally, a silver platter.
"...Thank you." She took the cup, and placed it by the sill next to her. Gothitelle restrained a sigh. It hurt her to see her mistress suffer this way. Slowly fading into mental seclusion. Yet giving a polite bow, the Pokemon turned to head outside. Her future sight had shown her that today was the day her mistress would meet a person that would hopefully change her life for the better.