[center][h2][color=ed1c24]Redorchard[/color][/h2][/center] Bruce’s eyes widened in response to the spontaneous Abigail. His finger hovered for a moment, but his reactions were too slow for the energetic trainer. He laughed in response to her question, again revealing the top row of his unusually shiny teeth. [color=9e0b0f]“I completely forgot to say! Route 1 is the main road out of Redorchard, and is your safest bet toward Greenway Town. You might even find a Pokémon or two on the way, who knows!”[/color] Bruce paused, forming a ring with his lips and looking off to the side. He put his finger on his lips, as if hushing an invisible force. [color=9e0b0f]That is, if you can catch them with all of these new trainers around….”[/color] Bruce shrugged. [color=9e0b0f]“Anything’s possible!”[/color] He almost motivated you to cheer with him. Almost. The research assistant was nearly flabberghasted when Abigail threw the Ficus Ball at Lynn, mouth held agape and a hand covering his face as if he were about to yawn. [color=9e0b0f]"Wh.. What… Why? You do know how a Poké Ball works, don’t you?”[/color] Bruce said, still maintaining this semi-horrified expression. His eyes were frozen in time, transfixed on Abigail. And they remained there as Lynn approached her. [color=9e0b0f]“H-hey now! No violence in the lab. Take it outside in a Pokémon battle, if you must. Things break too easily in here.”[/color] Bruce recomposed himself, brushing the front pocket of his lab coat. He crossed his arms as Lynn asked him the question about rare specimens. He raised an eyebrow and tapped his foot, the linoleum of the green moss tiles surprisingly resonant in its echo. [color=9e0b0f]“If I knew that, we wouldn’t be paying you to find them.”[/color] Bruce said. It was said rather mechanically, rehearsed, as if this were a common question. He looked at the approaching group of young trainers, picking their noses and yelling at the top of their lungs about how far their Pidgeys were going to take them down the road. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, and exhaled with a long, drawn out sigh. He stared into your eyes for a long, almost uncomfortable amount of time, his mind likely more active than his expression. [color=9e0b0f]“Okay, but just because I want this particular specimen in good hands,”[/color] Bruce said. He leaned in closer so as to avoid any outside ears interfering with their conversation. [color=9e0b0f]“I’ve been in the forests of Redorchard my entire life, and I know a group of Xatu live here. They leave beak marks on tree trunks and branches, but only a trained eye would notice.”[/color] Bruce paused, either for effect or to catch his breath. [color=9e0b0f]“Here’s the catch: Xatu have too strong of foresight to be caught by another trainer. They can predict where a trainer will be standing hours before. So they have to come to you.”[/color] Bruce looked around his shoulders, noticing the playplace he currently worked at. [color=9e0b0f]“But with all of these people on the route, there’s no way they’ll be drawn out.”[/color] Bruce pointed at Lynn. [color=9e0b0f]“If you can find a way around that, you just might get lucky.”[/color] Bruce leaned back into the air, open palms coupling his elbows. [color=9e0b0f]“Any other questions?”[/color] [center][h2][color=gold]Gleampier[/color][/h2][/center] Sure as the tide would return toward the sea, the line for the S.S. Expedition waned with time. The majority of people exiting the ship warranted a sideways glance, as their enthusiasm matched the brightness of the weather about them. The tourist-like guests waved cameras toward clouds. Each breath was a memory. Take a picture of that wave! Oh wow, look at all of these people! Where are the bathrooms? I want to see the Wailords! One particularly forward tourist shoved his expensive, flash camera into your face and snapped a photo. Isn’t this person exquisitely exotic? Not like the others around here! Quick, take another picture! Before you were swarmed by the mass of commercialism, some other event grasped hold of their tiny attention spans, and dragged them farther down the long, sunbaked pier. The S.S. Expedition was a sight to behold. It wasn’t that it was a large ship. It wasn’t that it was a particularly beautiful ship. No, it was something else. You pondered what part of the boat drew you so, and you thought of it in one word. Character. This ship has been to so many places, had seen every feature of Huji and had likely seen almost every Pokémon there was to know in the region. The age in the boat’s hull only gave it wisdom. The teal-green windows, having battled so many foamy tides, was a testament to adventure. And the barnacles on the side… was that a Shellder? The precocious Pokémon looked up at you with its beady, white eyes before unclamping from the side and diving back into unknown depths. Taking in other surroundings, you noted the amount of locals about. Although many of them surrounded the pier, swaggering in their bronze skin and blonde beards, few joined you in line. There was a tradition, a stubborn nature you felt, that must have kept them there. It was in their step. Contained in those beaming faces of theres. Something other than the beautiful weather being a reason to stay on this isolated island seemed a bit farfetched to you at first, but the idea grew on you as you became lost in thought. And as if you had just blinked, you took your first step onto the gangplank. Your departure from Gleampier had just begun. The plank led you to a hardwood deck, recently waxed in its sheen. Young trainers and tourists alike leaned on silver rails and discussed a babble of nonsense you couldn’t quite make out, what, with all of the noise in the area. What you could make out was a taller woman, with casual summer wear and thin, bottomless frames around her red eyes. Her hair was so pink it almost hurt to look at, and it ascended as a tornado might toward the top of the ship. [color=ec008c]“Hello there! Pleased to meet you. My name is Holly. I’m Professor Palm’s main research assistant.”[/color] For such an exotic look, Holly spoke more monotonously than you’d expect. [color=ec008c]“Professor Palm is looking forward to meet all beginning trainers over a complimentary dinner this evening, if you’d be so kind to accept.”[/color] She smiled, but it almost seemed conceited, or forced. Or maybe she just wasn’t quite sure how to smile. [color=ec008c]“In the meantime, please make your way to the Terminal Lab in the lower deck. Spaces have been accommodated for all passengers.”[/color] With this, Holly directed her attention to another group that was just stepping onto the landing. Following her directions and some signage, you were able to find your bearings and navigate toward the aforementioned Terminal Lab. It was surprisingly clean for being part of an aquatic vessel. Though, it was apparent that the salt had began to take over as it did all things. A white grime was encrusted on the sides of several terminals. They were lined in rows, like slot machines in a casino. Each one had a black, rotating stool to sit in, with just a few people in line for each one. The blue lettering being read off of each screen gave the room an alien hue, as if a comet were passing by. The glow of the terminals reflected off of your face. People in wear similar to Holly’s walked the aisles between terminals, addressing the calls of confusion and intrigue. The exterior of the room had numerous tablets, switches, levers, and prismatic buttons that were all being operated by attentive individuals in striped uniform. Though your attention wasn’t focused on them. It was in front of you, waiting, your very first Pokémon. Your heart pumped more loudly against your ears as you took each step forward, as each person exited with their Pokémon. Finally, you were the next in line. You stepped forward. [@Xan the G] [color=6ecff6][REGISTER][/color] Read on the screen, just above a thumb print. There was no turning back from here. Did you accept? [i]Assuming you accept...[/i] Blue lines traversed the screen. In patterns, sporadically, dashing in their inconsistency. The cogs in the terminal whirred as the lasers performed their show, before they came to form words on the screen. [color=6ecff6]Havoc Matsuda AGE: 15 SEX: M HEIGHT: 5' 0” WEIGHT: 123 lbs[/color] [color=6ecff6][IS THIS CORRECT?][/color] [i]Assuming you pressed the button, after making any changes you wished...[/i] [color=6ecff6]CALCULATING...[/color] First, a hex grid of wireframe. Black in the inside, green as the structure, a Poké Ball formed in a pocket below the screen, held by a sort of basic upholder apparatus. A green laser, in the fashion of a 3D printer, began to bring the Pokéball to life. Layer by layer, the second dimension gained another perspective. First green, then a white bottom, a black, middle rim, a white button on the front, and finally the cherry ted top. The button glowed a dark pink and hummed a synthetic tune before fading. [color=6ecff6]YOUR POKÉMON IS... HOUNDOUR [WILL YOU GIVE HOUNDOUR A NAME?] [/color] The screen asked you. [@BlueSky44] [color=6ecff6][REGISTER][/color] Read on the screen, just above a thumb print. There was no turning back from here. Did you accept? [i]Assuming you accept...[/i] Blue lines traversed the screen. In patterns, sporadically, dashing in their inconsistency. The cogs in the terminal whirred as the lasers performed their show, before they came to form words on the screen. [color=6ecff6]ARREN MALLA AGE: 15 SEX: F HEIGHT: 5' 6” WEIGHT: Calculating... [IS THIS CORRECT?][/color] [i]Assuming you pressed the button, after making any changes you wished...[/i] [color=6ecff6]CALCULATING...[/color] First, a hex grid of wireframe. Black in the inside, green as the structure, a Poké Ball formed in a pocket below the screen, held by a sort of basic upholder apparatus. A green laser, in the fashion of a 3D printer, began to bring the Pokéball to life. Layer by layer, the second dimension gained another perspective. First green, then a white bottom, a black, middle rim, a white button on the front, and finally the cherry ted top. The button glowed a dark pink and hummed a synthetic tune before fading. [color=6ecff6]YOUR POKÉMON IS... POOCHYENA [WILL YOU GIVE POOCHYENA A NAME?] [/color] The screen asked you. [@Eklispe] [color=6ecff6][REGISTER][/color] Read on the screen, just above a thumb print. There was no turning back from here. Did you accept? [i]Assuming you accept...[/i] Blue lines traversed the screen. In patterns, sporadically, dashing in their inconsistency. The cogs in the terminal whirred as the lasers performed their show, before they came to form words on the screen. [color=6ecff6]VUDUIN ALIMORE AGE: 18 SEX: M HEIGHT: 5' 11” 1/2... 5’ 11” 1/4… recalibrating WEIGHT: Calculating… [IS THIS CORRECT?][/color] [i]Assuming you pressed the button, after making any changes you wished...[/i] [color=6ecff6]CALCULATING...[/color] First, a hex grid of wireframe. Black in the inside, green as the structure, a Poké Ball formed in a pocket below the screen, held by a sort of basic upholder apparatus. A green laser, in the fashion of a 3D printer, began to bring the Pokéball to life. Layer by layer, the second dimension gained another perspective. First green, then a white bottom, a black, middle rim, a white button on the front, and finally the cherry ted top. The button glowed a dark pink and hummed a synthetic tune before fading. [color=6ecff6]YOUR POKÉMON IS... BUDEW [WILL YOU GIVE BUDEW A NAME?] [/color] The screen asked you.