smash_logs | I WANNA BE THE VERY BEST, OR MARGINALLY OKAAAY~

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I WANNA BE THE VERY BEST, OR MARGINALLY OKAAAY~

Who: Gordon Freeman, Pokemon Trainers, NOT-pokemon trainers, people happening by.
What: Gordon becomes a grown-ass pokemon trainer
When: Late afternoon, after class, several weeks after his network post
Where: Gordon's teaching lab, outside in tall grass, other locations
Warnings: BALLS.

[A: Gordon's teaching lab]

Gordon has been busy. He's taken several weekends of Pokemon Training classes after his post to the network, and while he was the oldest in the room by five years (AND THAT INCLUDED THE TEACHER) he's wrapped his head around the technology and theory of pokemon training. He can even name more than ten of them without help, which was more than he could say when he started all of this.

Now they'd cheerfully alerted him that he was ready to catch any pokemon he wanted, provided it was low enough level. So he bought a handful of pokeballs of different types on the way back from the class. Now it's after physics class, and those around the science building can hear his voice echoing down the hallway from the lab.

"Come on, Maxwell! You said you wanted to fight alongside me, and this is how we can do that! Just get into the pokeball and then--"

BZAPP!

"GH! Dammit, STOP that!"

[B: The woods just on the border of the school]

Now it's dusk, and eventually he's convinced his pokemon into going along with this whole "training" thing. Now this grown-ass man is sneaking around in purple-hued autumn tall grass like some kind of auburn big cat in jeans. Someone do something before he makes an idiot out of himself.

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Ziio hasn't necessarily made it a habit to go bugging around in the forest. Not since the explosion, anyway, and for a plethora of reasons not to. However, sometimes Gordon needs someone to keep an eye on him and she's not completely incapable of doing just such a thing. In fact, most of the time, she does have an eye on him, like she's just waiting for him to do something idiotic.

Strange how such an academically brilliant man can sometimes be so foolish...

But when he's not in the room she's tried to subtly occupy at a time he normally would be, it does raise some lesser noticeable alarms in the back of her mind. So maybe seeking him out wouldn't be the worse thing she could do, which is how she finds herself in the woods to begin with.

Watching him proves to be so ridiculously entertaining that she can't even be bothered to interrupt him immediately. He looks like a damned animal and it's not like he isn't one to some degree. And finally she clears her throat and raises her voice just loud enough for him to hear.

"Are you trying to visit your roots, Gordon."

Her voice cases him to pop out of the grass, standing straight and surprised by her voice. Oh god, she was WATCHING him again, wasn't she? He turns and squints into the trees, seeking out her tanned frame inevitably crouched on the base of a branch somewhere.

"No, not-- not precisely! I'm just exercising my pokemon!"

That... sounds like a euphemism, Gordon. And not one of your better ones, either.

At least he knows where to look. If there are trees present, inevitably Ziio is in one of them, nice and low to the branches for the best view, and the best escape route. If necessary.

If she wasn't more 'in the know,' she'd probably ask. Fortunately, Ziio's not completly unfamiliar with the concept of pokemon. Not to say she's particularly condoning of what they're used for. However, that's another topic for another day.

"And in order to that, you need to be rooting around as if you were an animal... I see." A sly smile hooks into her mouth. "Is that your way of saying you won't be eating tonight?"

"What?"

ZZAP! Out pops Maxwell from... some shard of electronic gadgetry in his pocket. He giggles madly at Ziio's observation and flattens himself into a zappy, linear pastiche of a prowling creature. He even couches and sneaks through the air for a few feet.

"Ha ha ha." Gordon chimes in.

Ziio doesn't really know the first thing about Pokémon. Except they exist at the academy. Except she almost inadvertently killed one. Except that they evidently can take on human forms. Except that they can be used for combat against one another. Trying to train one herself would never happen, and watching Gordon deal with his Rotom just solidifies that for her.

She relaxes against the branch she's made a home in and cradles her chin in the palm of her hand as she looks between the two the best her eyes can. "Are you making any progress at all? It looks troublesome." But maybe that's what Gordon needs, a little bit of trouble. It certainly beats a lot of shadow bugs and islands popping out of nowhere.

"No, no he's actually pretty well-behaved right now."

In that he's not zapping him.

"We've reached an understanding, I guess you could say. He stops hitting me with electricity, I get him out of the lab occasionally and train him up."

The little plasma being floats towards Ziio now. He stops about five feet away and beeps a salutation. Ooh, hi!

"That's Ziio, Maxwell!" Gordon shouts for an introduction. "Zap her and you're going into that pokeball the HARD way, by the way. Ziio, that's Maxwell."

Wearing a sly curve of the mouth, she stays situationed, reasonably comfortable where she's at for the time being. For many moments, she quietly regards Maxwell with some consideration and finally offers him a nod of acknowledgement.

"'Beep' to you as well," she greets the Rotom, uncertain of how to even address him, but assuming she must be doing fine for he hasn't 'zapped' her as Gordon's slight implication warns. "Be good for your trainer and he'll be good to you in return."

Casting a glance down to Gordon briefly, her gaze returns to Maxwell. "I have nothing against you, but since we'll be living together, I'd appreciate it if you were on good behaviour." Although whether she meants Maxwell or Gordon is debatable. The request is applicable, naturally, to both boys.

Her words make a glancing impression on the little plasmoid pokemon, because he seems to be distracted by her. He floats around her in the tree, examining her curiously. She didn't have any gizmos on her! No tablet, no calculator, nothing! How could this BE? He thought humans needed those to live!

"Maxwell? Are you listening to her?" Gordon admonishes in the way a father disinterestedly reinforces mom's rules to a child.

Beep beep! Is his response. Yeah yeah, I'm listening.

Maxwell flutters about like a bug and in some alternate universe, a different Ziio of a different time has probably smacked him like he's one. This Ziio, however, watches with an idle fascination. She doesn't have much experience with Pokemon who aren't in a Pokemon form. It should prove to be an interesting educational lesson, especially with Gordon at the helm.

"He says beep," Ziio says down to Gordon. "Twice, evidently. Whatever that may indicate, but he hardly seems likely to cause any unnecessary complications." She points to the physics professor for Maxwell. "I think he wants to see you. Were you two not in the middle of training?"

PING! OH RIGHT! SORRY GOTTA GO BYE!

The rotom spirals down around the tree trunk and zips to his trainer's side.

"Yeah, I don't blame you. She has that effect on me too." He murmurs over his shoulder. "Now come on. Let's go show off for her."

Zzt! Beep!

It doesn't take long until she has she something to see. A shuffle within the grass and out pops an angry rat-thing with a curlycue tail.

"...Not QUITE as impressive as I'd hoped, but it'll do! Maxwell! Go... do something!"

PING! [KERZAPPP!]

Show off. Yes, she can admit that she wants to see what Gordon's hard work has resulted in. She relaxes against the branch of the tree, brings up an elbow, and settles her chin in the palm of her hand as she watches and listens attentively.

She raises an eyebrow at the rat-like creature and turns her gaze onto Maxwell. "...Do 'something'?" As she eyes Gordon for many moments, she gives a gentle sigh, "You don't even know what he does?"

If that's the case, you probably shouldn't have him for a pet. She's not going to say it, but she'll think it a'plenty. There's something to be said about doing the research before taking on such a grand adventure.

"Oh I know! I just... forgot for a moment!" He counters. "Maxwell, Thunder Wave! That oughtta put an end to this."

CRACKK! And the rattata plops over and shakes its head, disoriented.

"...No wait, it was Thunder SHOCK I meant... I need to make a mnemonic or something. Whatever. Maxwell, Thunder Shock!"

BZIPP!

"Ooooookay, that ought to do it." Gordon chimes in, rummaging through his labcoat with apparent lack of concern for the little rat thing.

Cocking an eyebrow, Ziio relaxes just enough to the point of finding some amusement in Gordon's very jarring experience with his Pokémon. Not that the display itself isn't a little disconcerting, but that Ziio's understanding of Pokémon seems to imply that this kind of behaviour is 'normal.'

Barbaric a bit, but normal. Whatever that really means in the long run of things.

"I am not preparing that... thing for dinner," she reminds him from up above. He probably knows that already, but it never hurts to grant him a reminder.

"You don't have to." He answers immediately, before the humor sets in. Then he glances up to her knowingly and produces a small spray bottle from his inner labcoat pocket. Two spritzes to the rat, and it wakes up and staggers to its feet, sees Gordon and vanishes into the tall grass in a scramble and a squeak.

It seems shooting douchebag marines by the truckload is A-OK, but leaving a paralyzed rat to fend for itself is a step too far.

"We'll find something a little less stringy." He adds. Is that an excuse? That's probably an excuse.

"...Did... you just bring that mouse back to life?"

She sits up a little further with an inevitable interest. She leans over her branch to get a better look. Forget everything else that came with it. With a simple spray from a bottle, he took a dead creature and sent it back into the world of the living.

...How?

"He wasn't dead; he was just knocked out." He replies. "And if I'm not mistaken, slightly paralyzed. Pokemon don't fight to the death in battles. Not the normal ones, at any rate."

"...Oh." There's a slight disappointment left by his explanation, but she doesn't bother to capitalise on it. "I see. I don't really know anything about them."

Tapping the bottom of her chin, she continues with some thought. "Once I jumped down on one and almost killed him. Before I realised he was one of the students here. In his human form, I could tend to his wounds, but if he'd stayed a Pokémon, in the worst scenario, he could have died."

Oh god, Ziio, you mean that rumor was TRUE?

"Uh... honest mistake, and a good thing he had a human form to change to. I'm not sure if that's an ability that's common for pokemon, or just the ones in this world. Maxwell here can't do that yet. He might be too young still."

Beep... >_>

"I don't know which ones have the ability or how they obtained it. Those that do, anyway."

Amusingly, prior to the assault on Vinnie, he respected her. Afterward, Ziio's own affection for him grew as well. He's like a son. She doesn't really say it, but she thinks about it from time to time nowadays.

"I would think you could ask one of the Pokemon about it," Ziio recommends.

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I WANNA BE THE VERY BEST, OR MARGINALLY OKAAAY~

B. How can I not.

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