The midday sun of a spring day beat down upon Professor Birch's Littleroot Town Reserve. It was a sprawling complex of several acres, with features criss-crossing the grounds like rivers, plains, and small, rocky hills. Pokémon of all shapes and sizes roamed their enclosures, grazing and mingling amicably with one another. All of them belonged to a trainer in the Pokémon League, but while they weren't within their trainer's party, they resided here. The professor and his small team of aides and researchers took care of each and every one of them, all the while studying their habits and behavior. At the forefront of this massive enclosure was a white three-story building, the laboratory, sitting upon the main road that led back into town. It served as both the home of everyone on the professor's team as well as a place where more in-depth studies could take place... with express permission of the Pokémon's trainers, of course.
Crouched just in front of this building's rather large front garden was a short man of about 20 years, wearing a black pair of cargo pants and a grey t-shirt. His name was Blair Whitacre. The shirt was smeared here and there with dirt, as were his hands and some of his rounded face. An assortment of Weedle, Wurmple, and Caterpie were slinking around tall flowers and bushes, grazing upon their leaves and branches as he watched. Occasionally, the researcher would reach and take a half-eaten shoot or leaf after a Pokémon moved on from it and give it a good, hard look. A mostly black hoodie and a belt lined with six variously colored pokéballs were slung along a nearby fence, shed because of the increasing heat. Despite this morning's rain, the humidity was very apparent and uncomfortable.
After a while, it was clear that whatever he was looking for wasn't there. He straightened up with a grimace, knees aching from holding that position for so long. Wiping a bit of sweat from his brow, the sound of the lab's front doors opening caught his attention. Looking over at the short path that ran between the road and the lab, he caught sight of Professor Birch himself striding in his direction. Blair had a feeling he knew what this was all about, but he tried to play it cool. The professor had been badgering Blair about it for the better part of three weeks now, ever since he found out that she would be coming. Blair had managed to delay giving an answer, but as today was supposed to be the day, his decision needed to be made. The little game Blair was playing with Birch's mind was about to come to an end.
"Still no luck?" Birch asked, taking Blair's pained grimace as a sign of another failed experiment.
"Nothin'," Blair responded, shaking his head and moving over towards his hanging belongings. He wiped his hands off on the inside of the hoodie, staring down the road that eventually led into town. Still no signs of a visitor so far....
Birch made no reaction to Blair's odd habit of wiping his hands off on just about anything. He knew that Blair had spent years on the road, moving from town to town all over the world in search of Pokémon and badges. When you made a life of roughing it, you were bound to develop some rather unsanitary habits. "That's too bad," Birch remarked, not really sounding all that involved in the matter. The preoccupation with something else was evident. Blair knew what was coming next. "But... you know, Blair," Birch continued, sounding hesitant, "She's bound to be here any minute now.... And since you've never said 'no' outright... I just thought I might give you one last chance, you know?" He tried to smile at the former World Champion trainer, one hand stroking his impressive beard, but it looked obviously forced.
Blair actually cracked a smile, gripping the fence and leaning back against it with his legs crossed at the ankles beneath him. "Professor, with your constant badgering, I'd wager you've given me about fifty 'last chances'," he remarked coyly, letting his snappy wit get the better of him, "So you'll be delighted to hear that I've already been preparing to leave for the last few days. My bag is packed and sitting on my bed, Professor. You've won.... I'm going."
Birch looked positively delighted at Blair's response, clapping his large hands together. "Wonderful! Wonderful!" he cried with gleeful triumph, "I've always said you don't belong in a lab, Blair! You belong out there, making a name for yourself again! I know for a fact this is your way back in it all!" Then, before he could stop himself, he continued: "Oh, I must let her father know! He'll be delighted!" With that, he dashed back towards the lab before Blair could get in another word.
"Always the excitable one, isn't he?" Blair murmured to seemingly no one in particular. However, there was always someone listening to him... someone he'd known for over a decade. They were always less than an arm's reach away in case of danger or otherwise. There was a dazzling flash of light as the green and white pokéball on his hanging belt released its contents. A rather tall and stoic Gallade appeared next to Blair, his defining feature a vicious scar just below his right eye. "I take it she's close by, Slash?" Blair asked the psychic Pokémon, despite already knowing the answer. The Gallade gave a slow nod, gesturing towards the road with his head. "Good. Let's hope this isn't a complete waste of my time...."
With that, Blair returned to cooly leaning against the fence by the path, waiting for his next companion to come walking by.
Crouched just in front of this building's rather large front garden was a short man of about 20 years, wearing a black pair of cargo pants and a grey t-shirt. His name was Blair Whitacre. The shirt was smeared here and there with dirt, as were his hands and some of his rounded face. An assortment of Weedle, Wurmple, and Caterpie were slinking around tall flowers and bushes, grazing upon their leaves and branches as he watched. Occasionally, the researcher would reach and take a half-eaten shoot or leaf after a Pokémon moved on from it and give it a good, hard look. A mostly black hoodie and a belt lined with six variously colored pokéballs were slung along a nearby fence, shed because of the increasing heat. Despite this morning's rain, the humidity was very apparent and uncomfortable.
After a while, it was clear that whatever he was looking for wasn't there. He straightened up with a grimace, knees aching from holding that position for so long. Wiping a bit of sweat from his brow, the sound of the lab's front doors opening caught his attention. Looking over at the short path that ran between the road and the lab, he caught sight of Professor Birch himself striding in his direction. Blair had a feeling he knew what this was all about, but he tried to play it cool. The professor had been badgering Blair about it for the better part of three weeks now, ever since he found out that she would be coming. Blair had managed to delay giving an answer, but as today was supposed to be the day, his decision needed to be made. The little game Blair was playing with Birch's mind was about to come to an end.
"Still no luck?" Birch asked, taking Blair's pained grimace as a sign of another failed experiment.
"Nothin'," Blair responded, shaking his head and moving over towards his hanging belongings. He wiped his hands off on the inside of the hoodie, staring down the road that eventually led into town. Still no signs of a visitor so far....
Birch made no reaction to Blair's odd habit of wiping his hands off on just about anything. He knew that Blair had spent years on the road, moving from town to town all over the world in search of Pokémon and badges. When you made a life of roughing it, you were bound to develop some rather unsanitary habits. "That's too bad," Birch remarked, not really sounding all that involved in the matter. The preoccupation with something else was evident. Blair knew what was coming next. "But... you know, Blair," Birch continued, sounding hesitant, "She's bound to be here any minute now.... And since you've never said 'no' outright... I just thought I might give you one last chance, you know?" He tried to smile at the former World Champion trainer, one hand stroking his impressive beard, but it looked obviously forced.
Blair actually cracked a smile, gripping the fence and leaning back against it with his legs crossed at the ankles beneath him. "Professor, with your constant badgering, I'd wager you've given me about fifty 'last chances'," he remarked coyly, letting his snappy wit get the better of him, "So you'll be delighted to hear that I've already been preparing to leave for the last few days. My bag is packed and sitting on my bed, Professor. You've won.... I'm going."
Birch looked positively delighted at Blair's response, clapping his large hands together. "Wonderful! Wonderful!" he cried with gleeful triumph, "I've always said you don't belong in a lab, Blair! You belong out there, making a name for yourself again! I know for a fact this is your way back in it all!" Then, before he could stop himself, he continued: "Oh, I must let her father know! He'll be delighted!" With that, he dashed back towards the lab before Blair could get in another word.
"Always the excitable one, isn't he?" Blair murmured to seemingly no one in particular. However, there was always someone listening to him... someone he'd known for over a decade. They were always less than an arm's reach away in case of danger or otherwise. There was a dazzling flash of light as the green and white pokéball on his hanging belt released its contents. A rather tall and stoic Gallade appeared next to Blair, his defining feature a vicious scar just below his right eye. "I take it she's close by, Slash?" Blair asked the psychic Pokémon, despite already knowing the answer. The Gallade gave a slow nod, gesturing towards the road with his head. "Good. Let's hope this isn't a complete waste of my time...."
With that, Blair returned to cooly leaning against the fence by the path, waiting for his next companion to come walking by.
