A Battle and a Kiss?

"Kip, you suck. try to blast the water circularly. A straight shot is a water gun, not a whirlpool." Riley said to her baby Kip. She was never rude to her pokemon outside of training, but when she was training, she could get mean. "Almost! Ok, try to keep it going now for more than five seconds." "Kip, Kip!"

After training on whirlpool and a few other moves for a while, Riley thought it fit to find an opponent, one weak for her Kip. He always took trainings a bit herd, and this one seemed a bit rough. He was walking slowly and looking down, and she felt badly. Riley was not one to care about feelings, but her pokemon mattered too much to her. She cared about Kip most, since he was the baby of the little group. He made her softer and more sensitive. She needed some empathy, even if it was just to utilize to trick people.

After seeing a building, undoubtedly the laboratory everyone spoke about, Riley decided this guy or girl would be the best target for some real training. Riley, Kip, Sly, and Fluffy all ambled their way up to the Lab's door. She knocked loudly and a bit intrusively. She was hoping the door would just burst open--these people were very calm and free. She knocked and knocked until someone opened the door.

"Hello, darling! May I come in?"

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[atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/fhhLa84.png] Being the main professor of the region had it's ups and downs, pros and cons, et cetera, et cetera, as did a lot of things in life. However, while many would assume being a major researcher known world wide would have more perks than irritants, those actually in the position could easily argue otherwise. Sure, you were well known, but you, yourself, weren't known. You were just a title, a last name, and a position. Few knew your face. Few knew your first name. And even fewer regarded you as an actual human being. Just “the professor”, an emotionless drone meant only to pass out Pokemon to the new trainers and to make a few advancements in the way we know Pocket Monsters as a whole. It was a life that other professors may have found worthwhile, however. To see the faces of new trainers upon receiving their starter. To know that you contributed to science in some way, shape, and/or form. Even Professor Melissa Pine before him would talk about how annoying it could be some time, but the glory won out over the general dehumanizing that came with the position. However, her successor could handle a lot of things, but one thing he couldn't stand was being stereotyped as some old man who lived to serve those younger than him and he made every attempt to give anyone who stopped by the lab a show. Well, unintentionally for the most part. Sure, there was that one day that he dressed up in some weremightyena costume he'd found in the deepest reaches of the closet he labeled “Narnia” and proceeded to jump out at anyone who even came close to the lab, intending to knock on his door or not. Speaking of that, that was hilarious. He'd have to do that again some time. But then there was that one time where he was playing a shooting game too loudly from his living room and some kid called the cops on him because they thought he was being shot at by someone or vice versa. That was... embarrassing to clean up, that was for certain. And then he always seemed to come home whenever someone was there with the intent to meet them. He couldn't count the times when he'd accidentally “snuck up” on other, lower ranked researchers just by trying to unlock his door and grab a snack or something. Seriously, people these days. So jumpy. Honestly, because of these past experiences, it was of no surprise to him when he came within range of his home – Vent flapping it's blue and yellow wings above his head, much needed grocery bags clutched in his clawed feet – that he saw someone beginning to knock at his door. In the time that he took up closing the distance between his initial starting point and where his front door was located, the blond attempted to analyze the stranger from a distance. Long, brown hair. It almost reminded him of Cecilia, if she had been a brunette rather than being born with charcoal hair. That dress she wore looked a little shorter than most casual wear, if he thought about it, but it wasn't like it was a criminal offense or anything. He never really paid too much attention to fashion. Unless it was his own. At the very thought, her absentmindedly straightened the lapels on his crimson suit. Even when going to the local grocery store, one should always strive to look their best, after all. By the time he stopped, Zach was standing a few feet behind the female, watching his door start to swing open and the words, “Hello, darling! May I come in?” spew from her mouth. It took a good deal of effort to not break his indifferent facade as the door swung all the way open to reveal his aunt's Pansage, looking rather irritated at her persistent knocking. “You know,” he said, pushing past her a bit in order to enter his own home, “if you're wanting to visit someone, you should pick a time when they're actually home.” Gesturing for her to enter, he continued, “So what do you want? A Pokemon? Tips? I don't have all day.” That was a lie. All he was going to do was nap for the rest of the afternoon, most likely. He didn't even intend to put away his own groceries, instead letting his Archeops maneuver around the small building and do it himself.

"Oh really? You seem exceedingly busy. Well, Darling, I need your help. I don't really want a pokemon, but something else." Riley said this as she walked in. He started off on the wrong foot with her. This guy is a pokemon professor, right? He should be in love with pokemon or somthing stupid like that. He's a philanthropic guy, not an apathetic one.

Riley looked throughout the lab. She couldn't really find anything novel or cool. This guy was boring, but he had pokemon. Riley tried to be as nice as she could without seeming like she didn't care, which she didn't. She really thought this guy was some cynic. How do you get into this profession and end up not caring?

"Well, Darling professor, I need some assistance. See, my pokemon, Kip, is weak. She needs some help, some real experience battling." Riley said, as genuinely as possible. "I could use a battle, preferably with a weaker pokemon, like say one that is doled out to new trainers. It would help out a bunch!" Riley looked at Zachary pleadingly. She loathed imploring to this guy. He seemed so apathetic and indifferent, she wanted to say something a normal person would regret. Only for Kip would she be so pathetic.

Riley was throwing this guy a bone--she knew his type. She could easily aggravate him until he did what she wanted. Or, you know, got kicked out of his house. She could annoy and harass him, which would have been more fun. She was putting everything in his hands, and she wasn't particularly pleased with it. "Well? What do you say?"

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[atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/fhhLa84.png] Oh, kill him dead. Kill him now. Aim a knife at his lung, prepare the noose around his neck, set a fire worthy of burning witches. Or, in this case, an aggravated professor. Well, he supposed “aggravated” was a little too strong of a word. That was something he only saved for his best bro, Logan, because really, whatever the term “bro” meant, they were the exact opposite. A tad bit annoyed seemed to fit the situation better, as was true with most encounters, but he'd met people like this before on more occasions than he could count and they'd all gotten worse before they'd gotten better. People trying to play it nice in order to get what they wanted while trying – and almost always failing – to hide their arrogance or agitation. To say he had a special defense against people of this type would be a lie, guessing as he treated them like every one, but other than the easily offended, they tended to have some of the worst reactions. Aw, well. At least she wasn't looking like she was one to be super clingy to everything she was and cared about. Say one thing that might come of as an insult if translated into twenty other languages and back through a bad translator and they were ready to tear your throat out. “Oh, really? You seem exceedingly busy,” the brunette started in response to his demand that she hurry this encounter up. Already off to a bad start. Sarcasm wasn't really his thing, the only person he could really stand to hear it from on multiple occasions being Cecilia, and even then there was a point when he had to walk away. Usually, he just spat back a little fire of his own – an eye for an eye type of thing – but he didn't really think it was worth it this time around. Instead, the professor preformed an art he'd been trained in for years. Half lying, half telling the truth. “I am, actually. I have a paper due in three days and I've been swamped with field work.” Shooting her another indifferent glance, he said, “If you knew anything about a professor's work, you should know we're always busy.” that was true for others before him, but he was Zachary Alexander Hazel. The day he's honestly busying himself with something is the day of the apocalypse. “I don't really want a Pokemon, but something else.” The blond eyed his new guest as she entered his home without a word and began snooping around his things. His mouth only twitched in response. It wasn't like she was doing anything wrong, just being a bit rude. Not like he was much different for the most part, and he was partially to blame for inviting her in anyway. Whatever. As long as she wasn't breaking things, it'd be fine. Or if she stole anything. The idea itself was starting to make him panic inwardly at the thought that he'd just invited a burglar into his home until he caught to sight of his sword on the corner not far away, his mind being put to ease a bit at the reminder that he was far from helpless in those kinds of situations. “Well, Darling professor, I need some assistance. See, my Pokemon, Kip, is week. She needs some help, some real experience battling. I could use a battle, preferably with a weaker Pokemon – like, say one that's doled out to the new trainers. It would help out a bunch!” To the request, he simply raised an eyebrow. She couldn't be serious. If she really wanted battle experience, wasn't there a nice patch of grass right outside of the town entrance? And there was a Pokemon Center, too, so if this “Kip” grew tired or was seriously damaged, it was right there to heal it. Oh, and most importantly, he was probably the last person you wanted to go to for training in battle. “Well? What do you say?” she prompted, face looking so pleading that he couldn't help but think it fake. She'd given him sass the first moment she walked into his home, but now she was looking at him like he was her only hope. ...He could already imagine the feel of rope around his neck. “You know, I'd love to help you,” he said and if she had an ounce of sense in her, she would see what he was saying from a mile away, “but... You see, those aren't my Pokemon. Sure, I caught 'em and I raised 'em a bit, but the league insists that they belong to the league itself until they're handed out. They'd skin me if one of them got hurt or gained more experience than the others. Fighting with 'em at all could help me loose my job.” Not like he needed it, really. He was still rolling in money from his mother's inheritance. “Besides. I'm not a battler, anyway, and if I was, you'd get creamed.”

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Riley squinted her eyes at the professor. "Actually, I know how busy they are. I knew of Oak, and he had a lot of leisure time, actually." Riley didn't like the general apathy of this man. He really irked her, and being nice was obviously not her style.

Riley heard the indifference in his voice, almost as telling as his eyes. What, was she some stock character that walked in and out of his life, not of any importance? Riley looked at him and said, "Oh, I bet you would. And my pokemon could probably take all three starters at once. There, equality. And there's a pokemon centre in town. Just have them healed. It's not like a dragonair is going against them. It's a fricken Mudkip."

Riley smiled when Zach said that she would get creamed. This, the smile, was the first genuine emotion she had throughout this entire encounter. "Oh, well, it seems like you're finding any excuse to not battle me, huh? You should see if you can, you know, if you really think so. I'm better than you think, and I'll decimate you before you can even land a hit." Riley taunted the professor, trying to get that vexatious apathy away from his face. She looked at him for one long moment before saying, "So, are we battling? I think you've run out of excuses. If you win, I'll help you with the essay." Riley winked after this statement, obviously taunting the man in front of her.