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Njoty. It's always bizarre coming here from someplace as small as Togi, where everyone knows each other and where you can get anywhere with just a few ladders or bridges. Not so here. Here everything's huge and sprawling and confusing and there are so many people. That bit is really the most mind-boggling to Batsen. How can there be so many people in a place like this? How can a place like this even function, when everyone's doing their own thing? At some level, he's vaguely aware that people here tend to be less opinionated and hard-headed than back home, that Togi's culture is the exception to the rest of Sehto and not the rule, and presumably that has something to do with it, but it's still a little surreal seeing just how many people live here.
Batsen and Dejan aren't here for fun - the woods surrounding Togi are perfectly good for that. Nor are they here for commerce, the most common reason for taking a trip to the big city. They're here… for science! Or, at least, to visit the Science Center. Hopefully Dr. Kelebek will be around, and able to answer a question that's been nagging at Batsen for the past few days - what exactly is the strange birdlike pokémon he found, and why doesn't the pokédex seem to have any data on it?
After what feels like hours of wandering, the two finally manage to find their way to the Pterygotamorphic Pokémon Science Center by late afternoon. “Well, this is it,” Batsen announces, staring up at the glass front of the building, equal parts awed and nervous. It's huge, and thankfully actually manages to look quite different from most of the other buildings in the city.
Dejan cranes his neck back to look up at the building, impressive by Togi standards in just how much vertical space it seems to be occupying. For a moment, he stays like that, squinting up at the effectively uniform glass pane, trying to see more than the reflected sky from this angle. No such luck. He shakes his head in silence, then grins, bringing his attention back down. A moment later, he's walking forward, driven by his curiosity. “No time like the present,” he urges, eagerly.
Batsen takes a deep breath, staring up at the massive structure, before nodding slightly. Right. He wanted to find out what exactly his new pokémon is, and Dr. Kelebek is probably the best pokémon researcher on the island - or at least the best-known around here. No pressure at all. He quickly walks up to Dejan's side, and through the sliding glass doors into the Science Center. “…right, time to find Dr. Kelebek's office.”
“Find?” Dejan comments, even as he pauses in the lobby to look around. “I thought you've been here before,” he adds, letting his gaze linger on a set of doors in the area to the right from the reception desk, looking fractionally as if he were trying to size up the place to find out where he could best get away with a robbery. Just normal Dejan curiosity, in other words.
Batsen snorts. “Yeah, once, when I was a kid and my parents took me to get my pokédex,” he replies, shooting a light glare at Dejan before looking around, trying to see if he can line his sense of direction up with what vague memories he has. “…I think maybe this way?” he guesses, before heading down a corridor almost directly ahead of them.
Between an enthusiastic Dejan and an attentive Batsen, it doesn't take long for them to find the office. Somewhat mercifully, the door is open, inviting stray folk like them to poke their noses in.
Dr. Kelebek himself doesn't look like anything that might be deserving of a doctorate pidgeonhole, other than the vague hint his spectacles provide. He's clad in very casual attire, an orange shirt vanishing beneath a dark red jacket, neither of which looks like a perfect fit, and once-anthracite jeans that've either been worn for years or designed with the effect in mind. By the looks of things, he's currently entering some data into his laptop, peering to and fro between the lean device and paper notes, occasionally pausing to contemplate whatever it is they say.
The office itself doesn't provide much information about his profession. Aside from his desk and a sturdy aluminium table currently cluttered with stray books, a straw bowl of pokéballs and assorted pokémon related items, the furniture is entirely generic for an office, offering a view of two file cabinets, a shelf and a cupboard. The most notable thing in the room that feels a little out of place is a mirror and a lone tap, albeit with no sink, instead with a pragmatic but unflattering bucket stood immediately beneath it.
As the motion registers to his peripheral vision, the man looks up from his work, peering at the two through his spectacles, not hiding his emotion of curiosity and mild disorientation. “Hello,” he greets. “Are you looking for something?” Apparently he doesn't get many visitors.
Batsen tenses subtly at the man's question. He can't quite shake the feeling that he's imposing himself on someone whose time is far more valuable than his own. “Um, Dr. Kelebek?” he greets, just to make sure he's actually talking to the right person. “Hi, my name's Batsen. I… was wondering if you could help me with something. If you're not too busy, of course.” Calm down, Batsen. It's fine. He probably gets requests like this all the time. Or at least sometimes, maybe? How many people walk into his office and say 'Hi, I think there's data missing from my pokédex'?
The man's face crinkles in amusement at 'if you're not busy' - he evidently is, after all, but he knows better than to advertise as much to someone who's already clearly nervous. He glances to Dejan in curiosity for a moment, before shaking his head, turning in his swivel chair to face Batsen properly for a moment, saying: “By all means, come in.” A moment later, he's rising, only the slightest awkward pause to the motion, before he extends his right hand for the shaking. “We'll have to see if I can help you, won't we? What's the trouble?”
Batsen steps fully into the office, accepting the proffered handshake. “…to be honest, I'm not a hundred percent sure. I suspect it's just that my pokédex might be buggy or out of date or something, but…” He takes a deep breath. Start at the beginning. “A couple days ago, my friend and I found an injured pokémon, and I'd never seen anything like it… so I tried checking the pokédex, but it kept saying 'NO DATA FOUND', so…” There's a pause, and he bites at his lower lip briefly, then starts fishing around in his pockets before producing a pokéball. “I was wondering if you could tell me what it is?” And maybe help update his pokédex while he's at it.
The silence from Dr. Kelebek is, unfortunately, ambiguous. What's that gaze trying to say? Quietly, he nudges his spectacles into subjective place with his free hand, touching his lips with his tongue. “I doubt I'll be able to fill you in if your portable encyclopaedia can't,” he comments, hesitantly, perhaps trying to gauge if his visitor is trying to pull his leg. “Especially if you have a synchronised edition.” A pause, his left hand rising as if to gesture, before it falls limply by his side again. “…I suppose we can discuss the device later. Let's take a look at the pokémon?” he prompts, before grasping the fingers of his left hand with his right and holding the resulting knot of flesh against his chest in almost shy curiosity.
A light cringe touches Batsen's shoulders. If this turns out to be some kind of bug or synchronization issue or something like that, he's going to feel so embarrassed. “…sure,” he replies, and with just a moment's hesitation, he presses the button on the metal sphere, a red glow emanating from it and coalescing on the ground into a small avian form.
Ho-lee…! This isn't the forest. This isn't outside at all, this is inside, a notion that means the amount of humans might quite possible exceed the amount of other macroscopic creatures currently in accessible range. The pokémon peers at the room with the closest thing to an aghast expression that an avian form can possible display, beak tensely shut, head pivoted forward, eyes wide, gaze swerving cautiously but attentively around.
There are legs infront of her and they don't belong to Batsen or Dejan, not that Batsen or Dejan are necessarily soothing sights, but they're tolerable and they've yet to do something like expect her to actually listen to them by shouting or hitting her or threatening her with some other pokémon until she 'learns to defend herself' or something along those lines. She knows these things happen. For one, she's heard the two talk about that sort of thing in others. For two, she's witnessed it. Not often, just enough to be wary. She's not stupid, they'll probably get tired of her uselessness at some point and then what? Yep, yep.
Either way this is someone else. Rather than focus on him like she should a potential enemy, her gaze whips around and… ah yes, there is Batsen. And Dejan, for that matter. She's not been traded away to some collector. Fantastic. Still in business.
Dr. Kelebek, meanwhile, is slowly shifting from his stand to a crouch, brows having knitted together. The colouration is the first thing that stands out, of course - he doesn't know of a white, iridescent bird. The first explanation that comes to mind is, of course, that it might be a shiny variant of some species, but on closer inspection, the species doesn't look like anything he's seen, either, not soft enough at the edges for a Pidgey and not spiked enough for a Spearow, without a distinctive and odd plume like a Murkrow, and too small for a Farfetch'd, for starters.
A moment later has him awkwardly twist himself to glance toward his desk, not bothering to get up from his crouch, and he reaches for the top-most drawer in the file cabinet just under it. Then a pokédex of his own surfaces, taking in the creature's features… and turns up a blank. He shakes his head, leaning back and to the side to put it back with a slight grumble, then glances back at the small creature, which by now is staring back at him fearlessly. “Where did you find it?”
Batsen lowers into a crouch shortly after the small pokémon starts casting its gaze around nervously, resting a hand by its side. “It's okay, you're safe here,” he says softly, tone as soothing as possible. It's still a nearly-wild pokémon, it's still distrustful of him, but that's something that only time can change. In the meantime, he'll just have to be as patient and friendly towards it as he can, until he can earn its trust.
It takes a few moments of thought before he answers Dr. Kelebek's question. “In the forest, a few kilometers southwest of Togi,” he replies. “The poor thing was lying on a branch in really bad shape, I imagine it must've gotten attacked in midair and fallen, or something like that.”
Listening to Batsen's answer, Dr. Kelebek realises how pointless his question was - he can't really rule out anything. It's a bird, after all - it could even have flown over from elsewhere, though the fact it's encased in a pokéball at least makes it apparent that it's a pokémon and not a stray migratory bird from other parts of the globe. He stares at it for a moment, hoping it might reveal something about itself suddenly - but of course it doesn't.
The avian, meanwhile, is quite happy to partake in this staring contest. She likes staring contests - largely because it's so easy to win them, seeing as she doesn't need to blink nearly as often as the squishy mammalian bipeds. Her right leg lifts, scratching idly at the scaled skin of her left leg, and she tilts her head. The human blinks. A light twitch like the vaguest acknowledging bob of her head results - oh yeah, another one won! She's pleased.
Maybe if these humans are so keen on special moves, she should try one on one of them sometime. Maybe a bit of powder snow. Or even just a tackle. Or a peck. A peck would leave them guessing, wouldn't it? That was barely a special move at all, more like a regular move. It's weird, how humans have names for some of the things pokémon do and not for others. Why is Belch not a move? Why is Bristle Feathers not a move? She'd like Bristle Feathers to be a move. That'd be a thing she'd be quite happy to do for Batsen or Dejan. All. Day. Long.
Dr. Kelebek finally pushes himself to a rise, glancing back up at Batsen as he does so. He shakes his head. “Well, you have me stumped. I might be able to tell you more if I poked at her innards-”
Innards? Those are inside her. As if following her prior thought, her feathers bristle, her beak opening, and she caws in warning protest, head tucked in between her shoulders.
“-but obviously that's not exactly an option.” The human hasn't changed his tone or paused in his speech, and he glances down at her only after he's done, curious about her reaction and a bit unable to place what might have prompted it. “You could try seeing if she'll take any other pokémon as a mate,” he muses, idly, watching her with some curiosity. “With an egg group we might be able to find out more.”
A mate? What an obscene suggestion. All right, she doesn't like this one. Batsen's better. Well. Batsen's better as long as he doesn't think this nutjob's advice is worth taking, at least, and Batsen's all human, and he's talking to another human, and he might be biased in that regard. On the flipside, she's confident she can peck out an eye or two if they try putting her in a pen with a Spearow in heat or something like that. Of her trainer, then of the pokémon, roughly in that order.
✘ IN PROGRESS