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Tate was just finishing her first cup of coffee for the day, taking her time to enjoy the last dregs left in her super-sized Purugly shaped mug, when the newcomer entered the lab and, as all trainers tended to do, announced his presence and intent. She placed the now empty cup on her desk and picked up a clipboard and pen, still silent, still trying to hold on to the peace of early morning before the rush for starters inevitably began. Even if he’d broken the silence, she could remain in denial for just a little longer, couldn’t she? A grumpy sigh, perhaps not. She finally looked up and acknowledged him with a curt nod, holding out the paperwork on the board.

”Welcome to Cassieopeia Lab. I need you to fill out this paperwork for our records - things like your contact information and previous experience with pokemon, places we can seek letters of recommendation from if you have any you would like to provide, etc. Standard procedure.” she waited for him to accept the board before heaving herself up out of her chair and waddling over to the cabinet where they stored the pokeballs of the starter pokemon on offer. ”While you fill it out if you could let me know that information as well that would help the process move more smoothly. I’m going to rattle this list off but take your time answering, I’ve memorized the order on the page at this point, so you can always check it if you forget a question. Now then, where do you come from, have you ever trained a pokemon before, if so where are they now, what career prospects do you have, how will you expect your pokemon to help with that, do you have any type or species preferences and why? And you will also be signing a statement saying you understand that the lab may deny you a pokemon if the assistant, in this instance me, sees any sign that you’re unfit to receive one of our starters. If you refuse to sign of course you’ll still be turned away.” she said, finishing it all in one breath before turning to smile at him like a shark. After the latest incident with an unfit trainer she was doing her best to be up front from the start. Even if she thought they should read what they were signing to begin with, it could only help to outline and underline that fact from the get-go. ”Also, if you’re not aware, pokemon are sentient and intelligent creatures. Far more intelligent than some people seem to realize. Most of the pokemon in the lab can communicate with the common speech pokemon and humans may both understand - however sometimes a trainer may not be as familiar with that speech or the pokemon may have language delays or other hindrances that may require translation which I’m happy to provide. So please once the pokemon are introduced, do take your time in getting to know them as they’re all individuals just like you and I, and I hate for anyone to leave with a pokemon they don’t mesh with. It’s not good for either of you when that happens.”

She paused for a second trying to think if there was anything else obvious she should have to point out, "And....I would hope it goes without saying but please don't...touch the pokemon without their permission. If you wouldn't grab hold of my bottom then you shouldn't reach out and stroke a Fennekin's ears, you see?" she advised frankly. It was insane, really, how much she'd seen as of late with the influx of trainers to the region. Their ignorance showed in spades and it was beginning to wear her down.

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Tate nodded at the appropriate moments, listening to him speak and glancing at him now and then to observe his body language. Sometimes the words that went unspoken were louder than those that left your mouth. In this case the stilted pause when it came to his experience with pokemon had her quirking a thinly manicured brow as she opened the cabinet. Hm...peculiar but not an uncommon thing. She didn’t think as much of it when he went on to talk about the snorunt and working in a clinic. If it was something she needed to worry about she didn’t think she’d have seen the warmth in his eyes when he thought of the pokemon he’d worked with in the past. Not to mention he wasn’t adamant about type preferences. Yes, these things all boded well for him and made something like an awkward hesitation less of an issue.

She went back to perusing the pokeballs and their labels now that she had a better idea of what to look for for this young man. The round woman felt herself softening, relaxing, feeling at ease in the job she did day in and day out. It was routine and yet it was not. Depending on the group of pokemon presented, their personalities, the disposition of the trainer themself. You never knew what would happen, the interactions were always different. It kept things interesting, really. And since he seemed to understand and accept her instructions about how to go about this process successfully she didn’t think this would be one of those quick thoughtless selections or one that would cause her excessive stress. She could unclench her behind and just do what needed done. Why couldn’t they all be this easy?

Tate turned back to him with a few pokeballs in hand, clicking one as she did so to release a Sneasel into the room. Why not go with an obvious choice of a ice type? Even if she was a dual-type with darkness, she was actually one of the only ice types they had on hand at the moment. The dark creature uncurled from her napping position in the floor and gave a long stretch, rising to her bipedal stance, her razor sharp claws glinting under the fluorescents as she raised them skyward. She blinked blearily at the bespectacled trainer in front of her and nodded politely, < How do you do? > she greeted him, her accent posh and polished, extending one paw out to shake.

Another click of the ball and out tumbled a Piplup. While he wasn’t an ice type, he was water and had come from a snowy place before coming here. He would probably love to compare notes on record winters in his time as a rather long in the tooth pokemon for one of such a low level and first stage of evolution. < Howdy young fella, good to ssssee ya, > he said, his voice gravelly, but whistling through a crack in his beak when he got to his S’s.

Tate decided to wait a little longer before picking a third option, letting him get to know these two a bit first and not wanting to overwhelm him with all three at once. She waffled between what the best option was. Sometimes going one at a time tended to lead to trainers only picking the first one because they had the most time with them, but when she did three they sometimes rushed it and picked one that maybe they should have known a little more about. So two was the best happy medium she could think to do. She took the three balls back with her to the desk and had a seat there, ”Take your time getting to know them, there’s no rush at all. Sneasel, Piplup, this is Case. He’s from a snowy town in Sinnoh and wants to be a researcher.” she introduced them, getting them up to speed briefly but leaving enough open ended for them to learn the details from him directly if he so wished.

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Sneasel’s eyes widened as he plopped himself right down into the floor with them. If she were a psychic pokemon she’d have agreed with his thoughts on his old family. Or rather would have agreed with those family members. How uncouth! Had he never heard of a chair? Goodness gracious! But she also knew it simply wasn’t done to voice such things aloud. To do so would be an even bigger offense than the original offender had committed! No, best to purse her lips into a little sideways 3 that it became naturally when she was tight-mouthed and clasp her claws together following the handshake. A lady would usually offer her hand to a man for a light kiss, of course, but she’d picked up on the fact that such etiquette was falling out of favor with each passing year. So a handshake, though masculine and making her skin crawl, was the next best option. < Oh, pish posh! Perish the thought! > she said, waving one hand as if dismissing the idea that he should be concerned for her sleep.

Piplup scratched his inner thigh with his flipper, on the other end of the spectrum of manners from the Sneasel but just as set in his ways, odd as they may be. He took it upon himself to answer first, talking over any intention Sneasel could have possibly had of going first, < Well ya sssssse ssssonnny, I lived at the assss of the earth end of no damn wheressss, and I’m an old bird without a lick of training but don’t let that sssstop ya! > he said, licking his beak in an attempt to moisten it, < You wanna be a resssearcher that’sss jussst fine! I’ve ssssseen sssome thingsss in my day that I could tell you all about! You’d be ssssurprised the crazzy ssstuff you can ssssee in a lifetime! I’d do my besssst to protect you in the wild but I’d do even better to be your assssissstant and help you with your resssearch. Like I sssaid, I’m an old bird. I don’t have the ambitiion and cloud headed ninnymugginsss ideas of a whippersssnapper. I’m happy with whatever you need me for! >

Sneasel’s eyes became narrower and narrower the more he talked, on and on, but she tried her best to pass it off as her resting them than growing irritated. That insufferable whistling got on her nerves, she didn’t know why someone with such an ailment wouldn’t have trained himself to avoid S’s at all costs, let alone use them in excess as he tended to do! When he seemed to finally finish up she cleared her throat delicately, < Researching sounds like interesting work. I wonder if you have anything specific you’re looking into? Breeding habits, environmental insufficiencies for growing populations, human impact on the region? I don’t know much about any of that myself. > she added, giving her hand another little wave, being politely humble and modest as a lady should be, < But I’m quite accomplished in my other studies in art, literature, and etiquette. I’m sure I could give it a try if you wished it of me. I will be honest with you, however, I would love to participate in contests and other pageants whenever possible. >.

Tate went ahead and released the third pokemon into the room, a smaller than average Cyndaquil whose nose went to twitching as soon as he made his appearance. ”This is Cyndaquil. Cyndaquil, this man is Case. He’s got plans to be a researcher and comes from a snowy place in Sinnoh. He’s just asked the others what their plans are after leaving the lab. Would you like to share yours?” she encouraged, seeming to be extra patient with this pokemon as he took his time to continue sniffing before finally smiling, turning slightly more in the direction of Case instead of the door he’d been looking toward, < Ah, there. How do you do, Case? I rather enjoy gourmet food and would like to train enough to evolve to have actual digits to cook with one day. I have a nose and palate to die for from what I’ve been told and would love to put them to use. If you don’t mind a couple of scorched eggs when I’m first getting started I would be happy to be your personal chef once I’m good enough to cook the foods I’ve only ever tasted. >

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