Pikachu attempts to make amends with his Trainer—a cute charm in overdrive but ultimately just bouncing off the steel hide of Chancelor. The teenager lifts his eyes off the yellow mouse once his PokéNav begins vibrating, hazel orbs are fixed upon the screen—keen eyes reading the digits from left to right as the numbers previously given to him by the female popped up on the touch screen. Rejecting the call, he looks back up at her as she speaks, words cryptic, but holding a hint of truth to them. Pikachu also looks at the female before whispering something in the ear of the human, words in the tongue of Pokémon, but both human and Pokémon were thinking the exact same thing. They weren't dealing with just any old pretty lady in the middle of a Route, they were dealing with the very definition of a femme fatale and the youngest McQueen didn't need such fuckery in his still young life.

Though, her following words suddenly made him reconsider—made him though the red flags of caution to a raging windstorm consuming everything around them.

"One-night stands are nice. No strings attached, just the good stuff without all the boring drab that comes with it." In other words: Chancelor McQueen was DTF and he made it obviously clear in the way he presented himself; his eyes never left her own and he challenged everything she said with words null of interpretation on his end—he meant exactly what he meant, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. He then chuckles, looking Lusamine up and down in quick motion of the head. "And by the looks of it, you got nothing but the good stuff." He then playfully shrugs his broad shoulders, a pearly white grin to accompany his next string of words. "You might be a little crazy, but I like to cross certain bridges when I get to em', y'know?"

✝ tag(s) - LUSAMINE .
✝ notes - - - - .