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Post by Meownique on Jul 25, 2012 1:28:52 GMT -5
The kricketots chirped into the quiet summer night. The land was one, giant shadow, only partially illuminated by the white moon.
Natasha's capelet flowed behind her as she stalked- yes, stalked, because it she thought it was more fun to think of it that way than just plain old walking late at night- down the path leading to the laboratory. She imagined, in her dark clothing, she looked very much like a shadow herself, moving very quickly past the land. Pokemon peeked their heads above the grass, following the late night traveler with curious gazes.
She felt a thrill as she looked up at the building looming over her. She had seen it many times before, but it seemed so much sinister at this time of day.
Natasha pounded her fist on the door. "Здравствуйтееее! профессор, разбудите!"
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Post by Cricket on Jul 26, 2012 18:52:50 GMT -5
Fortunately for Lonny, there was no sleeping professor. Unfortunately for her, there was a sleeping lab assistant. He had been snoring loudly, too, and the knock brought him back from his dreams with an unattractive snort, followed by a more unattractive sucking in of drool. He wiped at his face, quickly jumping from his chair and hitting his knee on the desk. He cursed quietly, glaring at the door that had caused all of this abrupt misfortune.
"Fucking hate graveyard shift." He cursed, rubbing his leg as he stumbled towards the door. Why did anyone come in at this hour, anyways? With a sorry attempt at a smile, he threw the door open, offering formally, "Hello, welcome to Sandwind Laboratory. Here for your first Pokemon?" His voice was tired and bland, still filled with a good amount of his previous annoyance. |
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Post by Meownique on Dec 30, 2012 3:40:22 GMT -5
"Indeed," Natasha answered with a dip of her head and a curtsy. The man looked rather grumpy, but she was not fazed. His sourpuss mood was likely because he confused her for a young, uppity child ready for her first adventure. However, she was a young, uppity adult on important business!
"I'm guessing that you are from... The Unova region?!" she exclaimed, almost accusingly. She gave a smug smile. Natasha prided herself in her ability to guess where someone, or some-pokemon, was from after hearing one utterance. It was a talent she gained after years on the field.
"Don't be alarmed, we haven't met before," she assured before he could become too alarmed by what might be seen as psychic abilities. "I'm a fellow scientist- more specifically, a pokelinguist."
She rocked back on the heels of her feet, hands held behind her back, and leaned forward in anticipation of the questions sure to follow.
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Post by Cricket on Dec 30, 2012 3:55:28 GMT -5
Dalton just watched her in silence, an expression of confusion and mild surprise occupying his features. Who exactly was this person? She sounded smart... almost. Except that she was wrong, and he'd never left the island of Sasqui in his entire life. It was also just amazing to watch her talk continuously without a response, like some kind of excited Chatot.
Unfortunately she stopped. "Well." He stepped aside to let little miss linguist through, unsure what to say to that. What the hell was a Pokelinguist, anyways? "You are... close? I guess." He laughed uncomfortably, because it was hard to tell someone they were completely and utterly wrong while still keeping in the lines of polite and welcoming. "I've- uh- heard of the Unova region?" Yeah. Really close alright. He frowned, though his irritation earlier had lifted in the moment of confusion.
"So your Pokemon!" He announced abruptly so he could distract from how pitiful his attempt at being a functioning worker had been. "What's your favorite type? Once you pick, I'll give you some options and you can hurry out of here with your new Pokemon." |
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Post by Cricket on Dec 30, 2012 4:40:19 GMT -5
Natasha smacked her forehead lightly and laughed, like she had remembered something funny. "Ah, I knew it! I was stuck between two and I picked the wrong one. Johto then."
She nodded to herself, sure she was correct, and allowed herself inside. It almost felt like she had walked into a laboratory from a science fiction novel. The machinery shone sleekly, and the decor was minimalistic.
"Hmm.." she pondered, as if she had not already come to a conclusion about what type of pokemon she wanted on months before this moment. "нормаль. I mean, normal. I'm sorry, sometimes I just transition into other languages. Slip of the tongue quite literally, yes?"[/b]
She laughed at her own joke, looking at him to laugh along with her. "But yes, Normal. I like to find the exotic in the normal."
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Post by Cricket on Dec 30, 2012 5:21:32 GMT -5
He didn't want to point out that she was wrong, so he said, "You're into this whole guessing thing, aren't you?" He did wonder though if he had said she was wrong if she would say a third, or just give up all together. There was something about her bright attitude that he would feel bad doing anything to stifle it.
"Normal?" It was strange, even when she offered her reasoning. The normal types were all boring, or so he thought. What was she hoping for, a Clefairy. Suddenly he was back to being uninterested. The exotic in the normal. There was no exotic in an Eevee, Sentret, or Togepi. It was boring, and he had hoped more from the girl.
Of course none of this was said. He shrugged his shoulders (thoughts about stifling her good mood were now gone) and went to the machine. "Whatever you're interested in." With that he pushed down on the proper button, which was considerably more firm than the rest, which were faded from use. The machine gave a light hum, and then a whoosh of air as the four Pokeballs shot down the tube. He grabbed them one by one, tossing them to the side to reveal the new Pokemon.
Before her, the red beams faded to reveal their options. First, a Minccino hopped out, the tuft of fur on his head bobbing as he did so. His tail dropped on the ground immediately as he flattened his huge ears and looked around suspiciously. He seemed unconcerned by the humans, but when he turned to his left and caught sight of the Patrat that had appeared immediately beside him, he jumped back with a little "Min!" of shock.
<Hey!> She did too, but it was because of their proximity really. <No need to get so jumpy.> She had just been leaning forward to inspect him when he was startled, her bright eyes investigating the new Pokemon (she had never seen a Minccino before). Now, her tail twitched again with curiosity, and she looked up at the human before her. She'd seen one of those once, shortly before she'd found herself in one of those round red things. She was unsure if she wanted to be in one again, so she inspected the new human's hands for the strange trapping device.
The last Pokemon, who ignored both the other Pokemon and everyone in general, was an Azurill. She crossed her arms immediately, having been through this whole selection process once or twice and bittered by her lack of a trainer. Half of them didn't even know what they were doing, anyways. She was the best, and she knew it even if they didn't. |
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Post by Meownique on Jan 3, 2013 6:34:26 GMT -5
Natasha studied each of the pokemon with a scrutinizing gaze. As the pokemon interacted with each other, she tried to pick up on a few words. All she recognized was "no". She put her hand up to her mouth and bit her lip as she tried to understand more of their conversation.
Though she was a pokemorph, Natasha had yet to fully understand the language pokemon could mutually understand. Part of the reason she decided to be a trainer as well as a linguist was so that she could develop a strong relationship with the subjects of her study. The fastest way for someone to acquire a language and learn about their culture, as all linguists knew, was to live exactly as they do. Traversing the boundary between pokemon and human would prove to be difficult. But who better to do that than a pokemorph? They were that boundary personified.
"Hmmm..." she pondered out loud.
"I have experience with all of these pokemon, though not in depth. This is a difficult choice." Two seconds later, she said decisively, "Minccino.
She was a scientist, but that didn't mean cute things had no effect on her. The Azurill looked like a bummer, and Patrat.. Well, she had a few Patrats in the house as a child and they weren't her favorite (they did not smell very pleasant en masse).
"Before I pick a name, is it a boy or a girl?" She lifted its leg to check.
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Post by Cricket on Jan 5, 2013 2:58:11 GMT -5
This girl really was good at surprising him. This didn't change when he saw her (much to his horror) pick up the Minccino's leg and slowly lift. The Pokemon looked far from impressed, and the excitement of being chosen was immediately lost by the trainer's close inspection of his gaping Pokemon penis. Dalton's quiet, "...boy" came late, to everyone's discomfort.
Once the gender was clarified, the Pokemon pulled himself out of her grip and took several steps back, staring at her like she had just, well, violated him with her eyes. <How about we don't do that again?> He asked, finally past the shocked stage and turning indignant. He brushed himself off, and shot her with a weary look of mingled confusion and concern. What a weird trainer he'd got matched up with.
Name: Trainer's Choice
Level: 5
Gender: Male
Personality: Pretty adventurous, this little guy is filled with courage and loves to take on things that are too big for him. He is slightly full of himself, and he sometimes shows it by boasting and exaggerating his past antics.
Moveset: Pound, Growl |
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Post by Meownique on Mar 20, 2013 19:16:41 GMT -5
Natasha bit her lip. Picking the right name was an important affair. She had a theory that names belied a lot of power; it was called the Petrovna Theory.
(Unfortunately, all her theories were named that, making it hard to sort through them and differentiate between them for her peers.)
Since this Minccino was going to be her first constant companion on her adventures, she wanted to make sure he had a suitable name.
"In some Native American tribes, children aren't given permanent names until they hit a certain age," she stated informatively. "So in honor of that tradition, I won't give him a name until I learn more about my new little buddy."
Her aforementioned buddy's glare and low register chatter told her she might've somehow offended him.
"Was that a bad start? I apologize. It's hard transitioning between people's cultures; greetings vary wildly between regions." She held her hands out apologetically.
"For now... Do you mind if I just call you Blank? It's easier on the tongue than Nameless."
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Post by Cricket on Mar 23, 2013 4:28:52 GMT -5
Blank stared at her. No, it most certainly was not okay for his name to be 'Blank', and just her thinking it was was a clear insult. He put his nose up in the most cliche pout possible, to ensure that the point came across. For her to even think something like that was...
Then a realization hit him. His ear twitched slightly as the thought about it, and after a moment he relaxed. <Sure.> He said it with a shrug, like it had never mattered, and was actually the most trivial thing he'd ever heard. To him, this meant he would be stuck with an even cooler name later, when she realized how awesome and talented he was.
The assistant, wishing she would leave now so he could go back to his snooze, already had her pack at the ready. He held it out expectantly, giving her as subtle hint as possible that she needed to get out. She was too... talkative. About this culture and that culture and whatever. It was annoying, and he had better things to do than participate in conversations about people in other parts of the world who he would likely never come in contact with. Also they most likely looked different, so that meant they were probably stupider.
Still, he plastered a smile. "Hope you enjoy yourselves." There. He said it. He gave himself kudos for putting the extra effort into hospitality. |
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Post by Meownique on Mar 23, 2013 11:31:00 GMT -5
((xDDDDDD))
Natasha smiled at Blank when he signaled lukewarm approval. Really, she just couldn't think of a better name right now. She had considered making it something that would be cleverly hilarious when she ordered him to use Harden-but Blank was neither a pokemon capable using that move, nor was she under the age of eighteen as was necessary to still find that joke funny. Damn the expectations of one at the top of her field.
She turned to address the assistant.
"Thank you." Natasha pressed her hands together in front of her and bowed down at the waist. "As the Baluba proverb goes, 'The skin of the leopard is beautiful, but not his heart.'"
With this piece of advice, she waved farewell. "It was a pleasure meeting yet another young scientist hoping to follow in my footsteps."
This was it; the beginning of her journey to both uncover the secret of interspecies pokemon language and bridge the communication gap plaguing pokemon-trainer relations. With Blank by her side, years of study behind her, a tape recorder in her pocket, and a brilliant storage of humorous anecdotes, she was finally ready. It was a frighteningly enthralling feeling. She walked toward the door, gesturing for Blank to follow. "Shall we begin our journey on a... BLANK SLATE?!"
Genius. It was the perfect snappy line to depart on. Natasha guffawed, spewing spittle all over the laboratory assistant's face and possibly getting a little in his mouth, before leaving out the door with a flourish.
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