[hr][center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180510/9d0b0fe9060ca4e355a455660315ebbb.png[/img][/center][hr] [COLOR=gray] After exchanging polite greetings, Hector surveyed the three youths in front of him and hastily took notes on a battered clipboard. [color=lightgray]“Only three this time around, eh?”[/color] he remarked, as if they somehow knew who was going to arrive. One of them appeared to be under the effects of drugs, yet the government official shrugged it off for later. It felt dirty and wrong to ignore it, but he was in a losing battle against the mysterious old man behind the door and had to act fast if he wanted everything to go smoothly. A pang of shame struck him as he saw one of the teens sport messy, putrid clothing. Hector added up the context clues and was now aware of just who received the organic invitation. [color=lightgray][i]Helena and her recklessness...[/i][/color] [color=lightgray]“Well, I guess that´s all of you for this town, er, village. No sorry, territory.”[/color] He rested a gnarled pencil against his chin and glossed over his clipboard one more time. After the disaster, etymology had been thrown out the window and it was commonly thought that Kasparc bigwigs were determining names via spinning a giant wheel. These accusations offended them greatly, in part because they weren´t true and in part because they used dart tossing, which they insisted was far more elegant. Hector´s data currently listed Slopadelphia as “An ambitious train station.” The report went on to state several warnings over not drinking the water or coming into prolonged contact with the residents. He gulped. [color=lightgray]“Well, names are just names. What´s important here is the great new journey all of you are going on, starting today.”[/color] said Hector nervously. Had this period of waiting continued, he would have forced all of the teenagers to engage in absolutely horrible icebreakers. Fortunately, the door swung open. [color=#f5b041]“What is all that [i]racket[/i] going on?!”[/color] yelled professor Charcoal. He looked like a sandwich meat that had gained sentience and decided that despising all of life was the best possible course of action. He wore a soft mint bathrobe that had been gnawed at from every edge possible. When he spoke, it swayed around as if it was just as angry as he was. The old man stared long and hard at every one of the ruffians in his yard, something that he had practiced earlier in the morning. He was quite proud of his scowl and hoped that the others would recognize just how superb it was. [color=#f5b041]“[i]Well??[/i] What are you all just standing around there for?? Aren´t you all gonna come inside???”[/color] The professor´s house was every bit as decayed as he was. Half a dozen zigzagoon were scampering around the wooden floors, save for a pair furiously mating in a corner. A large hickory shelf stored every toy that the impish pokemon had stolen from children over the years. Professor Charcoal limped towards the far end of the house, where a bare folding table accentuated the stained yoga mat right below it. He dragged his body across the house slower than usual, taking things slow so he could savor the moment. He hated every single person that was with him right now, and yearned to let them know. If everything went according to plan, he´d even get to shake his fist at them a couple of times. It had been awhile since he had done that, he thought. Hector neatly placed a sheet of paper and a snapped pencil on the table and cleared his throat. [color=lightgray]“Well, to start off, I want all of you to write your name down, as well as a few more tidbits about yourself. Don´t worry over what to write, the point of this activity is to have a clear example of your handwriting. If you can´t write, draw something.”[/color] He clasped his hands in satisfaction at having more or less restored order to the activity. [color=lightgray]“After that,”[/color] he added, [color=lightgray]“ you´ll decide amongst yourselves over who gets to pick their pokemon first.”[/color] Professor Charcoal held his hands behind his back and closed his eyes in pride. [color=#f5b041]“Back in my day, we just tossed a handgun in the middle and whatever happened happened.”[/color] he said, beaming. Hector chuckled nervously. [color=lightgray]“The only right way to solve a problem is peacefully, professor."[/color] Hector had a warm grin and spoke with a slight edge in his voice. He may have been just a bit nervous over the new wave of scouts and their, uh, [i]free spirited[/i] personalities. [/color]