TM & HM Fundamentals

There’s a certain vigor, an excited passion that displays plainly across Mathew’s face that Giovanni can’t help but admire, and while he’s expecting an excitable discussion over the future of this little project, he wasn’t quite prepared for the level of excitability that came; Mathew’s handshake is incredibly energetic, goes on far too long, and Giovanni’s smile breaks from its usual charm to fill, instead, with mirth.

      His eyes come to draw a little wider along with his smile when Giovanni rolls right with the presentation of his words. He is glad they’re already getting along because he won’t admit it but he worries about getting along with his partner. He’s already heard some things and while they’re enough to make him nervous he can’t help but instantly be put at ease now that he’s talking to the man. The rumors can’t possibly be true, right? He certainly hopes not. 

It’s a big day. Saffron City is towering, intimidating, and beautiful, and Giovanni isn’t here for a play date; he’s here for business. Beyond everything else in his life, he was, first and foremost, a pokemon trainer. A gym leader, to boot, and not just any gym leader—Giovanni was Kanto’s strongest ground-type specialist. And that was part of the reason why he was at Silph Co, today. The move he developed, Fissure, was on track to become a licensed TM by the end of the fiscal quarter and distributed throughout the region.

      He’s in the process of pinching a fidget spinner between his fingers so he can do something while he waits, when there’s a knock on his door. He barely has time to straighten and by the time he’s set the gadget down the door opens and he’s left to face off between what’s familiar and what’s not. His head tilts in uncertainty but a smile flourishes across his features and his eyes light up at the sight of a new guest. He soon learns he’s the man he’s just been thinking about and just as eager he takes his hand in both his own and shakes it with growing excitement. 

      “Hello! It’s good to meet you too. I’m really impressed with how much you’ve come up with.” He keeps shaking his hand far longer than he should, perhaps because he’s too busy complimenting his work to notice his own actions. “I’ve been going over your documentation. It’s very solid. Shouldn’t take too much testing to get it off the ground.” He waits to see if Giovanni will get his play on words as he finally stops shaking his hand and turns towards his desk. 

Routine maintenance was never an easy task.

The Battle Factory was made up of so many computers and various processors that it seemed like a bi-weekly task. Now that the upkeep was proving to be difficult time and time again, Thorton was cursing himself for the clutter. It made for in interesting atmosphere, and he had gained quite a reputation from it, but to him, it was nothing more than a reminder of when his detachment was at it’s peak.

It wasn’t until he ran out of space for all of the modifications and additions that inebriation started to play a role in easing his lassitude.

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     Zetta pays no mind to the young man on the other side of the screen; instead, it pays every bit of heed to what’s around it and ignores any questions keeping it from its intended purpose. It wants to look around before Mathew discovers its missing and seeks him out and while it knows it doesn’t have much time it still floats along as if it has all the time in the world to do so. Erratic twitches and jerks flow like jaunts of electricity through its limbs and its head rotates round when it hears the man from before pursuing it.

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He seeks out only the brightest and finest of the land. Mathew Jermain is a name that constantly appears in even the haughtiest of mouths. Each person he meets lauds the man as someone who will help bring Magma to its full potential. But, they warn, he is of a dark past, formerly of Rocket and other shoddier details. No matter, he can help realize the ideals that I’ve once held within my hands, and have now just begun to manifest. Yes, he is the one that will help me achieve my ideals - Mathew Jermain.  

      He bites his lip in thought and thinks on it for a long while. It’s as if they know.... No, they must know about his history if they were wording it that way. His eyes narrow with suspicion and he mulls over it until he gets off work. 

      “I don’t need a fancy laboratory or many people to work with. I don’t need to do this.” Yet he still finds himself packing his bags and sending in his resignation a day later.

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The Gym Leader had taken the rest of the day off, having no more scheduled battles for the day. Her Pokemon were growing restless, and by that…her Espeon had taken it upon herself to be much rowdier than normal.  The psychic sighed, closing up her office and donning her jacket. The fall winds were picking up, making it just a tad bit brisk outdoors. But nonetheless, her Espeon needed to burn some of that energy before she accidentally used Psybeam out of pure excitement.

     They all want to spend time with him, and he is more than willing to sit with them, to provide them with love and to find out just what they’ve been doing for the day. An Eevee with a prototype appendage he’s created for her sits in his lap and as he smooths a hand over her fur he attempts to sip at some coffee with the other, tries to soothe a Psyduck and an Ekans at the same time as they vie for the attention of that arm; the Ekans is persistent, wants to wrap itself securely around his arm and up his sleeve but all he can do is remain patient as he lets it happen while the Psyduck ends up taking his cup so that his hand can rest atop its head. A Skitty naps at his other side, and behind him he rests against the uncomfortable makings of a Geodude who deems it necessary to be a prop because every time he tries to shift or move he finds it follows.

     There’s more going on in the little pool set outside his workshop as all the water type Pokemon find amusement in gathering to the side closest to Mathew to watch him work. He has more Magikarps than anything else, but they all splash around like the rest, especially since fall approaches. They all seem to notice, and while it’s a nice change from summer Mathew’s not entirely sure the lot’s ready for it to come to a close. He chuckles as Psyduck tries to hold his coffee cup up to him with its tiny hands, fails and nearly spills it all over his blue prints; he’s at work yet again and has no idea he’s about to have a visitor.

     “We’ll just set this here, shall we?” He says softly, gently prying the cup from his hands to set it to the side without disturbing Ekans and coming to rest his hand again atop his head. It seems to comfort and soothe the vacant duck and Mathew is more than happy to oblige. “Ah! But I’m afraid I need to move, I just need to grab a few things. I’ll be right back, ok?” He feels their disappointment and has to coax Ekans off his arm to pool into the floor before stepping over the rest of them. He decides he’ll bring them treats when he’s done as he casts one more glance over his blueprints and carries on out of his workshop out into the brisk fall air.

    He stretches as he moves, takes in a deep breath of air and fails to notice the woman and her Pokemon approaching until, of course, it’s too late. Much too late because by the time the sound of padding footfalls reaches his ears things are already set in motion. The Espeon is on him and unfortunately for the both of them he doesn’t have the best footing; he falls with a gasp of surprise. The air leaves him in a rush and though his glasses are skewed he makes out the blurred shape of Selene and her trainer.

     Something wet laps at his cheek and he realizes he’s being greeted and a breathy laugh escapes him. Well, that certainly was one way to greet someone, but her trainer is worrying as he slowly pushes himself up to one elbow, his hand reaching up to adjust his glasses so he can focus on the two of them. When it’s done he becomes much more interested in petting Selene, showering her in any amount of affection that pleases her.

     “O-Oh, don’t worry, miss. I’m used to this! She’s very energetic isn’t she?” He’s not really paid much attention to Sabrina just yet with the bundle of a Pokemon before him and as such fails to denote just who she is just yet. When he does notice however he pauses, his eyes widening a fraction in awe. “My word, you’re Sabrina aren’t you?” He knows of her, marvels at the fact that she would come out here and that chance would have them meet– or was she here to see him? It couldn’t be.

      In his stupor he lets her help him up to his feet, thanks her softly and finds himself smiling at such a chance as this. He forgets what he’s doing entirely and clears his throat.

“A labyrinth,” Ary replied to the comment on being lost, taking a long drag from his cigarette and blowing smoke up into the sky.

Chess looked at the Lumiose punk as though he’s waiting to hear why he helped the stranger just as much as the other man is. Perhaps he has reason to be wary. Though the two had so much history together there never failed to be a sense of wonder shared between the two in situations like this. Sure, Ary could be helpful, but for a stranger?

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      He presses his hand to his head, nursing the place he hit as Ary explains. He feels humiliation sinking in for having made the other act where he normally wouldn’t and that makes him feel all the worse. He doesn’t look at the man now, eyes drawn to his feet as he frets over it. He owes him a huge thank you and yet all he can do is avoid his eyes. 

      “They didn’t know what they were getting into if they got ahold of this bag.” He murmurs, a sigh escaping him as he finally looks from his feet up to the stranger. “It’s my research material. I create TMs. The man they’re for would have been very cross with me and would have gone after those boys to get them back I’m sure...” He hopes that will deter this man from wanting anything at all to do with them. He certainly hopes he’s not wanting to get mixed up with it all as he hugs his bag closer and eyes him warily. 

      “T-There’s nothing really special about my work, honestly.” He knows that’s not entirely true, but a part of him believes in it because of what it’s done to Pokemon. It’s nothing like what it used to be, what it used to stand for and that truly bothers him. He sways where he stands, eyes closing as he reaches out to steady himself on the Pokemon before him. 

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It seemed as though Lance were called all too frequently for work like this. Rocket would be doing another such thing, this time a research-based operation. Though Lance had recently begun to question his doings, his motives, and the nature of the conflict between society and Rocket, he nevertheless performed his duties as seen fit. Questions would only prevent justice and morality from prevailing, right? Purpose be damned, he did what he was supposed to do.

This time had been something simple, not too many operatives or grunts, a small-scale operation, and Lance’s Dragonite had quickly dealt with multiple trainers before the operation seemed quelled. Having destroyed the main computer and funneled the data found into his own copy, Lance set about to flushing out whoever was left, rounding a corner to find a scientist.

      He’s so scared and disoriented that he gets turned around in the hallways. He tries to avoid ones that echo with conflict and yet all the same he seems to only be drawn closer to it. His eyes wide with fear he rounds a corner and is met with what he’s trying to avoid. He walks right into Lance and with a whimper of terror he meekly draws back, clutching hold of his bag in desperation as he backs away from him. He wants to run but his feet drag as if weights are drawn down on him and he honestly can’t stop shaking to save his life. 

       “P-Please don’t...” He’s no stranger to begging, no stranger for pleading for his life like this. He just wants to get away, knows he won’t be able to give Lance the information he possibly wants as it will mean betraying Rocket and he can’t do that. Not for all they’ve done for him. Even if he doesn’t agree with their methods, he still must remain loyal to them. “J-just let me go...!” He gulps the words out, the hidden meaning within them still there. He has to make it out, he has to report back successful or he’s sure to be in trouble.