THAT LET US BET WHEN YOU

KNOW WE SHOULD FOLD

Someone around here was obviously fond of cats. Noted. The seat that she had been about to settle in was covered in a thick layer of purple fur, that had been shed from some creature's coat. There was so much of it there that it would probably gain sentience and begin to move about if left there for another few days. Georgia turned up her nose at the idea of getting the fur all over her clean clothes and instead opted to stand, taking further time to study her surroundings instead. Whomever ran this lab really needed to invest in a vacuum and a few dozen dusters. Georgia didn't believe herself to be a snob but was it really so much to ask that people clean up after themselves? She was convinced that the scuff marks on the floor (probably from teenagers' sneakers) could be cleaned up with a little elbow grease.

As for the tragically 1920s houseplants, which looked like plastic phonies; they need only be replaced with some air plants or succulent. Or maybe some tasteful Cacti would really pop in the beige and white space? Magnolia! Bitch. Please. This room needed was a splash of green, a nice accent wall covered in perhaps-- a mural of the town square. Yes. Now they were getting somewhere. That would really have shown that this lab was a much a part of the community as said square, rather than just being an innocuous buildings were geeks and nerds came to hangout and discuss science and numbers. Even for Georgia, who much preferred to sit in her room and blog than go outside, they were kinda lame.

Not as lame, mind, as the receptionist who called to her in a tone not dissimilar to those favoured by librarians. It was crisp, and the words to the point. She was clearly being summoned by the stubby-legged woman to whom that voice belonged. Short women had it rough, she had to admit, because nothing looked good on them. They either looked too cutesie or too tacky. Thus, Georgia didn't blame the receptionist for her crass tone. She probably would have been a thoroughly intolerable spinster too, if she was stuck in such an unfortunate body.

Georgia wandered lackadaisically over to the desk, her steps careless but she made it work. In her opinion at least.  Casual elegance was the best kind "Hello, ma'am. It's nice to meet you." In complete contrast to her inner thoughts, Georgia's tone was light and sweet. Her eyes glazed over as she studied the chubby little lady before her. Despite herself, she folded her hands and her expression became sympathetic. This poor, poor woman with her frumpy ways. Georgia's heart swelled with pity.

"Yes. I'm here for a Pokemon," Why else would she be here. Certainly not for the decor "It's good to meet you Tate. My name's Georgia" She flashed a bright smile her way before taking the pen and clipboard and beginning to fill in the form. Name. Contact details. Health insurance-- yes.  Immediate relatives... allergies. Usual stuff, although some of the forms did make her concerned for what she was getting herself into. Which was why, for the first time, Georgia actually paused to consider what she was doing.

Then she launched into answering Tate's inquiry "I suffer with hayfever and minor fur allergies but that's not really an issue. I am fond of dark type Pokemon but if you don't...that is to say, please don't put yourself for my sake, ma'am." If Tate could find her a dark Pokemon for her first then that would be an added bonus but in this case, Georgia was being earnest. As long as her Pokemon was healthy and well groomed then she would have no room to complain.

THAT LET US BET WHEN YOU

KNOW WE SHOULD FOLD

She dismissed Tate's ramblings on the meaning her her simple name with a polite smile and an utterance of "My father's name is Peter, actually. But it is am interesting idea." Georgia did not really think it was a thought of any real importance but who was she to argue with Lady Frumpy. The poor dear probably didn't have anything better to do with her time than pet her ugly little cat and feel sorry for herself. It could be considered as her good deed for the day, if she showed some kind of pity for the creature before her. Wasn't she a good person? Yes. Georgia decided she was. She was giving herself a mental pat on the back still when the Froakie was released into the room.

He was a little blue frog, with sweet bubble-like structures dangling from his chin. Georgia had to admit that when she had come to the lab, she had not expected to be confronted with a Pokemon like this one. Her familiarity with Pokemon who were not native to Kanto was limited, although she had been trying to branch out her understanding in preparation for this. She guessed, then, that the sweet looking Froakie was a water type (it was blue for a start, and something in her memory was telling her it must be true,) which was not too bad to begin with. What was more, if her memory was serving her correctly, Georgia had an inclination that it evolved into a dark type, which would be perfectly suited to her tastes. 

Georgia's impression of the Froakie was shattered when he opened his mouth to speak. She spluttered at first, before flinging her hands over her mouth to hold back her snorted laughter and giggles. The way that he spoke was-- why is this frog talking like one of those old timey films? It was a simple thought, but one that kept her staring at Froakie as if mere observation would enable her to understand his strange accent. At least he knew how to clean up. Georgia could appreciate that immensely, especially in that moment in this fur-littered room.

"I don't think I've ever been called 'toots' before," she began to answer him earnestly, with a soft laugh "my name is Goergia. Can I ask though, why do you believe you would be the best choice out of all the Pokemon here? Anyone in your shoes would say the same, just to be picked, surely?" Georgia paused before continuing "I'd also like to know what you think about contests?" Both were important questions to her, given that she was here to choose her first Pokemon. She could not just jump blindly when presented with this Froakie, as just one of her options, because she would have been limiting her choices. All the same, she fumbled for the phone in her pocket to snap a picture of him and upload it quickly to one of her social media accounts. Keeping her followers updated was important.

That done, she lowered her camera and looked back to Froakie with an expectant expression on her features.