Post by Kitty on Jan 14, 2010 21:29:55 GMT -5
(ooc|| I apologize if my intro gets a bit long. I chopped off about as much as I can stand for; the rest is sort of necessary to explain stuff later on ^-^" ||)
All things considered, you only have yourself to blame for this.
It started with a prank. One night, you slipped into Jeremy Stuart's cubicle and rearranged his filing cabinet. Simple and nothing too damaging, right?
Wrong.
You didn't get to see his reaction the next day (you were off reporting on the latest Super Contest in Hearthome), but luckily for you, his reaction waited for you to return to Jubilife. His reaction involved your cubicle, Saran wrap, and a lot of popcorn.
A lot.
You weren't the kind of person to take things laying down. All you did was rearrange his filing cabinet. This was just ridiculous.
So the game had begun.
It's been two years since that fateful first rebuttal. You and Jeremy have never stopped getting back at each other, with each prank more creative than the last. Your friends and coworkers seemed to enjoy the show, too. They've even started a betting ring. They won't tell you what they're betting on, but you don't mind - so long as you get the last laugh on Jeremy.
And yet, you cannot help but blame yourself for this.
This morning you had been assigned to interview a supposedly famous man (though you've never heard his name) who would be in town. Or above town, as it were. According to the bio in your lap, the man, Lawrence the Third, lives in a floating castle he built over the years. The job had been given to you by none other than Jeremy, who had become the Floor Director recently.
"I want you, specifically, to do this. Lawrence is a well-known man, and if you snag the first interview you'll be on the fast track," Jeremy had said. He gave you a manila envelope. "Be sure to read every question."
On the way to Hikokyu - which your cameraman told you was the name of Lawrence's estate (apparently he's more famous than you gave him credit for) - via helicopter, you couldn't help but contemplate why Jeremy would have done this. You had gotten to know him quite well over the past two years. While he had his nice moments, it usually resulted in an especially embarrassing prank to knock you back out of the clouds. You knew there was something fishy about this, yet you could not place your finger on it.
The questions!
"There it is!"
You nearly jumped out of your seat at the sudden burst of noise in your headphones. Your cameraman had his grin pinned against the window. You decided to look, too.
You gasped. His "floating castle" was at least the size of a city! You completely forgot about your questions as you watched its many rotating propellers and sprawling metal infrastructure. As the helicopter moved closer to the landing zone, you could see more minute details through the glass in the center, and before the sun's glare took the image away you thought you could see a man inside.
Your cameraman was more excited than you, and from what Jeremy said you figured it should be the other way away around. Yet as you approached the staircase you couldn't find the energy to get excited. Well, of course you were excited, but it was more out of pre-interview nerves than happiness.
The inside room was smaller than you expected - much- but it was also gorgeous. It had a nice blue, white, and chocolate-brown theme. The walls were meticulously painted to showcase some of the rarer Pokemon found under the sea, such as Gyarados and Mantine.
"Welcome to Hikokyu."
You turned away from the room and to the door behind you, where the voice had originated from. You recognized Lawrence now, thanks to the image in his bio. You couldn't help but think he looked taller in person.
"I take you are my interviewer for this afternoon?" he began. "I'm glad you managed to find your way in alright. I would have met you on the roof, had I not been distracted in my studies." He smiles. "So, what shall I call you?"
Your cameraman spoke before you could even think. "Hi, I'm Harold. I'm a huge fan of your work!" He moved forward and shook Lawrence's hand vigorously. Lawrence smiled and went along, but you could tell he wasn't even half as excited as Harold was.
"Ahem," you said, breaking up the intro. "Not to be rude, but I was just wondering- shouldn't this room be a bit bigger? You have an awfully large building, after all."
Lawrence looked at you with those eyes. The ones that smiled their sly smile, and you could practically see cogs turning in his mind behind them.
"This is only my living quarters. The rest of the building is dedicated to my collection, workspace, and machinery, of course," Lawrence replies matter-of-factly, though with a hint of amusement. You saw him do a quick up-and-down glance of you, and it made you more nervous that you thought you should be.
"Oh. Uh, well, we should get to the interview. I've still got some business to finish before I go home today," you said.
"Oh come now. What sort of host would I be if I didn't at least offer you some sort of drink? Champagne, perhaps?"
"Water will be fine."
"Suit yourself." Lawrence moved off to kitchen area, leaving you and your cameraman to set things up. While he set up his tripod, you flipped open your folder and looked at the questions. And then, of course, you kicked yourself.
These questions are embarrassing! you think, eyes widening as you look over then. What's worse is the fact that if you want to keep your job, you have to ask every single one of them.
On camera.
To be aired over national television.
Oh, damn that Jeremy!
"And- Harold, was it?" Lawrence calls from the kitchen.
"Yeah?"
"What would you prefer?"
Harold prepares to answer, but you shoot him a glare, causing him to double check his thoughts. You don't want him drunk any time soon.
"Just water."
"My, you two are sticklers for your work. I don't suppose I could even convince you to watered-down beer, could I?" he inquired upon returning from the kitchen, glasses in hand. Harold accepted his with a thank-you. He smiles as you take yours - or was it a smirk - and you quickly look away.
"Now let's get started." With one fluid motion, Lawrence sits in a chocolate brown chair, leaving you to sit on the sofa. You notice that despite his grandeur, Lawrence moves rather stiffly. He sits with his legs as neat as his back is straight. His arms are propped up by his elbows, causing them to hover slightly above his lap, cradling the champagne glass.
You shuffle your papers, trying to think of anything but the questions you have to ask. You look up at your cameraman and see that he is ready to roll. You nod, he turns the camera on, and you wait for him to finish his countdown before you turn back to Lawrence, fully intent on getting this over with as soon as possible.
Parents call me..
"Lawrence Gelardan the Third. It is a family name going back much further than three generations, or so I've been told. I've been meaning to look into the matter but have recently found myself…distracted."
"Distracted?" you echo, tilting your head sideways.
"I have recently received several tips to rare artifacts that I would like to research while in the Sinnoh region. I'm afraid the endeavourer has consumed most of my time."
"What sort of items?"
"The usual. Carved statuettes and the like. Meaningless to those not interested in the field. However, there is one item in particular that I wish to see at the very least. Perhaps you've heard of it? It is called the 'Time-Space Access.'"
You shake your head. "Can't say I have."
"I suppose not. Now, your next question…?"
You look down at your paper. Good, it's not one of the embarrassing ones. Not yet, at least.
My Friends call me..
Lawrence doesn't consider the question for long. "I am a rather solitary worker. Those who know me professionally call me Mr. Gelardan, but I have yet to know a person long enough to be on a nickname-basis." He pauses, glancing away. "My mother, however, used to call me Larry."
You smile at his mother's pet name. The stigma attached to "Larry" just seems so opposite of the man sitting before you today, yet you decide not to comment. The way he looked away to answer tells you that perhaps it is not in the best interests of either party to pry.
I'm not an it! I'm a..
You swallow before you read this question aloud. You actually consider skipping it, but risk losing your job. So you ask it out loud, then bite your tongue and wait to be laughed at, yelled at, or whatever he might do in response.
When you look up at him, you see that Lawrence looks startled. He pauses in sipping from his champagne and stares at you blank-faced, blinking. Then he sets the glass aside, shifts his weight to his right, and tilts his head down ever so slightly. It's just enough of a tilt to turn his smiling eyes into skeptical, offended eyes.
"I beg your pardon?"
You hold the paper up and point to the question with a sheepish grin. His eyes narrow slightly as he reads it for himself, and you quickly summarize the situation you're in.
A frown tugs at the corner of Lawrence's lips. He brings his hand to his chin, considering the situation, then sighs.
"Very well. But I will be having a word with this Jeremy person. I don't care if he has more pride than a Ninetails; creating such a question is outlandish and rather infuriating.
But to answer your question I am, in fact, male."
You let out a sigh of relief. While you can tell he won't be quite as happy for the remainder of the interview, at least you don't feel so bad for asking.
I am a...
"I am a collector. I began my collection with an ancient Mew card, and it has grown into one of the most prized collections in all the world. There is not a town nor city I could go to without at least one person knowing my name, or ten people trying to rob me. That is why I have built my "flying castle," you see. With this I can travel the land without fear of my house being broken into.
I am also an amateur historian by default. Many of the items in my collection are artifacts found by separating folk lore from historical fact and locating the item myself. I suppose that makes me a sort of archeologist as well."
"Do you use your Pokemon in your hunts for artifacts?"
"I do not own any Pokemon of my own. I do not have the time to put into training them, so I do not see the point. Any Pokemon that I have ever 'used' were owned by others working with me at the time.
I suppose I should mention that I also tend to buy and sell my artifacts based on rarity and beauty. I cannot hold an infinite amount of artifacts in my gallery, and I only save room for the best. This is what gives me the title of 'most prized collection,' after all."
"So, you have no sentiment for your items? Only the most valuable are allowed to stay?"
Lawrence chuckles, and his eyes smile along with his mouth. "My dear, while it does pain me to have to be rid of one artifact in favor of another, they are, in fact, simply artifacts. It would be foolish of me to dwell on any loss."
You frown for a brief moment. He has a point, yet you cannot imagine the thought of having no sentimental feelings for items you worked so hard to obtain. And why would he need to sell any artifacts at all? His house is large enough. He could probably contain every artifact known to man in here.
Yet you cannot bring yourself to ask the question. Instead, you move on to the next one on your list.
I don't need wrinkle cream! I'm..
Any regained happiness Lawrence had from talking about his work is immediately lost with one sigh.
"32," he replies, and leaves it at that.
Do you think I need a diet?
He looks slightly bewildered, but mostly amused by the question. "I hardly think you need a diet at all. You should probably eat, seeing how scrawny you are."
"I don't think that was…" You trail off when you see a little note written in italics and enclosed in brackets, indicating something to do rather than ask.
(Describe the way Lawrence looks for our seeing impaired viewers.)
Seeing impaired viewers?? You scoff at the thought. Figures Jeremy would do this to you. With an inward groan you look back up at Lawrence, discomfort written on your face.
"I'm sorry, but apparently I have to describe your looks to our 'seeing-impaired viewers." Lawrence raises an eyebrow. You shake your head and say, "Jeremy's words, not mine." This causes him to chuckle and smirk.
"What?" you question with slight offense.
Oh, nothing. Please, continue." He shifts in his seat, so he is more relaxed and leaning forward slightly. He has those eyes again, and you swallow. Well, here goes nothing...
"Lawrence the Third is dressed simply, though the material used for his clothes betrays his riches. I'm not sure of what kind of shirt he wears, but his overcoat is a light blue with a purple stripe down the center. The same purple is repeated on the cuffs of his sleeves and the coat's collar. His pants are a lighter blue, perhaps white under the right light, and his shoes are black.
Despite his blue-and-purple theme, Lawrence's hair is a sort of leaf-green, slightly yellow color. It is spiked on either sides of his head, and two curly locks, one of each side, frame his face. His eyes, however, are purple.
His accessories include metal band earrings and a gold-pendant necklace with what looks like two crescent moons on it."
Lawrence tsks. You narrow your eyes slightly.
"What's wrong with my description?" you ask.
"You forgot to mention how dashingly it all pulls together, and how my natural good looks amplify the result." He smirks. "I would have said at least as much for you, were our positions swapped."
You feel your face grow hot with blush. You break eye contact and look down at your papers, needlessly shuffling them as you try to regain your composure. Finally you settle back on the paper with your questions. You read down the list until you come to the next one.
My emotional disposition?
When you look up you see Lawrence nonchalantly sipping from his champagne. When he finishes he doesn't set the glass down. He keeps hold of it to his left, swirling the liquid with but the slightest movements from his wrist. All the while he's smiling- thinking. Then he stops and looks at you from the corner of his eyes.
"I am a singular man, though not above nor incapable of working with others. I am an intellectual, though I find myself fascinated with fairy tales and folk lore. I am patient, above all, though while I will sit through the most tedious of procedures I will admit I have little tolerance for missing results. I am headstrong and will stick with a task until it is completed, no matter the circumstances."
He pauses, setting his glass down. Despite recent conversation, he seems a bit more downcast. He smile drops the faintest amount, and the happiness drains from his eyes.
"I have heard others say things," he begins, pausing to sigh, "that I would not have wished to hear. By them, I am called arrogant, shrewd, and high-strung." He smiles once more. "Yet, to the best of my memory, those are traits not listed as any of the deadly sins."
You purse your lips. You almost feel bad for him, but then again, he does seem to exemplify those qualities. For a moment you wonder just how affected he is by such statements, and you begin to ask but he cuts you off.
"Well? Do you have another question, or are we finished?"
You cringe slightly. Those words are practically covered in daggers, and he lifted his chin so that he has to look down on you, giving you the distinct impression that he wouldn't stand for any of your extra curricular questions on the subject. You clear your throat and move on.
Things that are Groovy:
Lawrence chuckles and seems to regain his previous easy-going nature. "Let's see…"
-My Mew card-
I know I said before that I have no sentiment towards my possessions, but this is quite a different case. It is not so much of a possession as it is a mark of my trade. It is the very thing that began my life's career. While it is quite rare and beautiful of its own right, were it to come to a choice between it and a newer artifact, I would have to keep the card.
-My estate-
I built it myself, including the artificial intelligence that controls it, Anya. I am quite proud of both, and so have an affinity for both.
-My collection-
I would be nothing without it. Of course I like it.
-Water Pokemon-
You've probably already noticed, but the creatures of the sea fascinate me. We know less about their lives than we do any other land or sky Pokemon- excluding the Legendaries, of course. It may then seem odd that I have chosen a flying house rather than a submerged one, but the answer lays in practicality. There is also the fact that though I enjoy water Pokemon, I have no wish to be one of them, like certain enthusiasts do.
-A good mystery-
Too many times I am disappointed with the search for an artifact. Either there is irrefutable proof it does not actually exist, or I find it all too easy to locate. I prefer to engross myself in the search. Recently, this has become an occurrence about as rare as the artifacts I find. This also explains why I have started turning my attention to legendary Pokemon.
You tilt your head. "What do you mean by that? Do you want to capture them or something?"
Lawrence shrugs. "Perhaps. Truly, any one of them would be a priceless addition to my collection. It is a thought that has not been ignored."
You shuffle your feet. The way he talks about legendary Pokemon unsettles you, as though he simply considers them just another item and not the magnificent beings as you see them. You quickly change the subject so you don't anger yourself.
"Speaking of Pokemon, which is your favorite?"
"Hmm?"
"Your favorite Pokemon. You've got have one, even if you don't own it. Tell me."
Lawrence closes his eyes and smiles. "'The Beast of the Sea' - Lugia," he says. The way he says it makes you think he's reciting a line from a poem or story. It's very possible that he is. You know for a fact that the people of the Orange Islands particularly revere Lugia. This makes you think that perhaps Lawrence originates from there.
"Truth be told, after my stop here in Sinnoh I was hoping to investigate the legend," he continues, opening his eyes.
You swallow. "Any plans to capture it?"
Lawrence chuckles. "We'll see."
You sigh, knowing that this topic has died. Instinctively you know the next question, and you ask it. After all, you cannot have a "like" section without a "dislike" to go with it.
Things that aren't so Groovy:
-Dull researches-
I believe I discussed this before.
-Daft coworkers-
Honestly, sometimes I believe I'd get more done by myself than with bumbling idiots who can't do a job without asking questions. It's almost as though ingenuity has been bred out of existence these days.
-Annoying trainers-
You know, the ones that try taking on gym leaders with only Cute Pokemon or singular types, sometimes despite a type disadvantage. I've been unfortunate enough to have to see these battles and it's embarrassing.
-And finally…Peanut butter-
I detest the way it sticks to everything; skin, clothes, the roof of my mouth... And no matter how much I brush I can never get rid of the taste. It drives me mad.
You suppress a chuckle when Lawrence mentions the peanut butter. It seems like such an odd thing to hate.
You're laughing at me."
A short chuckle makes its way through, and you immediately regret it. Surprise and fear splash across your face. Your hand flies to your lips and you look at Lawrence with caution. Instead of getting mad, though, he chuckles.
"I am well aware of how ridiculous it sounds. Yet truth is the truth, is it not?"
You nod, smiling now, and when he motions with his hand, you read the next question.
But..I'm afraid!
Lawrence stares at you for a long moment. "I'm not in any position to reveal such a thing to you. I realize you need to ask every question on your paper, but that doesn't mean I have to answer every question on your paper."
You put on a small smile. Time to whip out your reporter charm.
"Oh c'mon. It can't be that bad. Are you afraid of bug Pokemon? Spinarak, maybe? Or Beedril? Or maybe you're afraid of being robbed, or some such."
"No and no. I'm not telling."
You widen your smile and tilt your head, giving him the 'don't be that guy' look. "Lawrence, everyone has a fear. I myself am afraid of deep water. I keep thinking a Sharpedo is going to bite my legs and tug me down, or I'll get caught up in a school of Magikarp and whisked away. Our fears are a part of us. So tell me, what's yours?"
He considers you for a moment. Then he sighs. "Alright," he begins, making you mentally cheer, "but it is a sensitive subject so let's not dwell on it. I am…slightly claustrophobic. I can stand it for short periods of time, but for places like my workspace - where I spend the majority of my time - I like to keep things sparse."
Whether it was your reporter charm or him just teasing you, you cannot decide, but fact of the matter is he did answer the question. This causes you to beam, but like he asked, you don't dwell on the subject. You read the next question, though as you read you cannot help but notice him smoothing out his overcoat. Perhaps he had been more flustered than you thought.
I like to...
Lawrence sighs. "Treasure hunting, as the laymen call it. It's how I make my living. Of course, it is not my only interest. I like watching a good Pokemon battle, especially the Elite Four championships, and the Wallace Cup. Programming bugs out of Anya's system, making Hikokyu more efficient- and, like most scholars, I like to read." He shrugs. "It's a simple life, I know, but it's one I enjoy."
"I don't think I would call treasure hunting for a living simple."
"A matter of perspective."
My reason?
"For being a collector? Well, my great grandfather started the tradition, as it were. He collected stamps, and passed on his affinity for collecting things to his son, and it has travel down to me since then."
"But why all this?" you ask, gesturing to the room around you. "Why build a floating castle? Why seek out the greatest artifacts known to man?"
Lawrence picks up his champagne glass again. "You might want to make yourself comfortable," he says, shifting his position as he does so. "It's a bit of a long story."
Mandatory Angst:
"I was born to a family that wasn't exactly rich, but not exactly poor. My parents made enough money to keep us above the poverty line, but not much else. They didn't sacrifice anything for me, though. Whatever I wanted, I got. Toys, electronics, and eventually my very own Pokemon. You see, I was to begin my very own Pokemon journey.
My great grandfather collected stamps. My grandfather collected books. My father collected ancient cards, which were used as a sort of Pokedex back then. Me? I wanted to collect Pokemon.
Turns out, I had a horrible knack for Pokemon training, let alone collection. I ended up in a lot of trouble. Being broke in Saffron city is not an ideal situation to be in. I called my parents as soon as I could and told them what had happened. They were distraught. They said they would see about sending some money my way, but until then I had to stay at the local Pokemon Center.
The money took too long to arrive. I had no money to pay for food, so I was forced to let my Pokemon go. The money arrived the next day, but the damage had been done. I had decided to give up on collecting Pokemon. My position has changed slightly since then, but I still have no desire to train.
But I digress. It wasn't until I turned 18 that I found out my father had sold the second half of his ancient Pokemon cards to bring me home that day. The first half he sold to buy my very first Pokemon and related starter items…I never thanked him for that."
For the slightest moment - the very briefest section of time - Lawrence looked…depressed. His shoulders slumped, his eyes unfocused, and his smile dropped. But the expression left as quickly as it had arrived, leaving you to stare with mixed feelings.
"But, as fortune would have it, I would soon regain at least one card of his. After my failure as a Pokemon trainer my mother fell deathly ill. We were advised that the only thing we could do was to give her the best last days we could. So, we sold my great grandfather's stamp collection and moved to the Orange Islands. Shamouti, to be exact. Mother died three months later.
My father and I stayed on Shamouti. I became fascinated with the local legends. It wasn't long until I found my first artifact, though this had nothing to do with the legends. It was one of my father's ancient cards, a Mew. I heard from a fisher than a woman had traded it for a basket of fish, and he in turn had traded it for new planking for his ship. I managed to track the card down and earned it back from an elderly woman by taking care of her Skitties for almost a year. I didn't tell my father about it until I had it back. I couldn't show him, however, because he had gone blind thanks to a raging Gyarados.
Keeping the card in my possession was a short-lived moment. By the end of the year I had to sell it to pay for our finances. We still had leftover debt from my mother being sick, and with my father blind there was that much less money coming into the house. But I put my treasure-finding skills to the test once more with one of the island legends this time. After perhaps a month of research I found the Silver King's Rock, which was later used to evolve a Slowpoke into a particularly intelligent Slowking.
From there I thought I knew my true calling. Just to test my skills, I tracked down my father's Ancient Mew card once more. I found it in Saffron City, of all places. Once I bought it back from a trainer who claimed to have "found" it I knew that I was meant to collect artifacts.
So there you have it. My life's story. I went about treasure hunting, and by age 21 I was known throughout all of Kanto. By 25, the entire world. I refuse to attach myself to any of my artifacts because I learned in my childhood and young adult years that things come and go. Indeed, I continued the practice of selling artifacts so I could fund Hikokyu, the first flying house. She herself is a prized possession. But now that she is built, any artifacts I sell are merely for profit or for the sake of doing so. I suppose it's become a sort of habit."
You simply stare at him for a long moment, and he stares right back. "I'm-" you begin, but he holds up his hand and stops you.
"Don't apologize. I am perfectly content with who I am today. I regret nothing of my past, so you have no reason to feel sorry."
Something flickering in the back of his eyes tells you this is a lie, but you dare not call him out on this. Instead you stare for a bit longer, then you remember that you have more questions. Well, one question left, as it were. It was just the mandatory "anything else?" question. You ask it.
Oh and by the way...
Lawrence sighs and raises from his seat. "Why don't I show you my collection," he says, though its more of a question than a statement.
"Sure," you reply, standing as well. He downs the rest of his champagne while your cameraman detaches the camera and hoists it to his shoulders. Lawrence then leads you to a large elevator. Since you recall his claustrophobia, you decide to stand far enough away from him, guessing that that is why the elevator is so large in the first place.
When the door opens on the lower level, Lawrence looks almost relieved to walk outside. When you follow him you quickly realize you are in the bulk of the ship; the main storage space for his artifacts.
Lawrence dives into details about each and every piece, giving you the complete tour. You nod your head and listen while Harold works on getting good angles for each item. Each has its own interesting backstory, but the story you're most interested in is what appears to be his latest project.
"What's this here?" you question, nodding to the construction zone in the center of the room.
"I'm installing a personal elevator of sorts," Lawrence replies. "It will also be the main hub for Anya. I'm afraid I can't go into much more than that."
You nod, then glance down at your watch. "Oh, shoot!" you exclaim, letting your arms flop. "Harold, pack up, we've got to go."
"Leaving so quickly?" Lawrence looks at you with a questioning gaze.
"I'm sorry, but I have stuff I need to do and since I've asked every question I'm OK to go now. I hate to leave so suddenly, but…"
Lawrence smiles. "I understand. Shall I see you out?"
You nod "yes." Harold gets the last of his shots, then turns off the camera and it's back upstairs for everyone. Harold grabs his equipment case from the living quarters, and then Lawrence leads the way to the roof where the helicopter pilot is waiting. Upon seeing you he puts down his book and starts the engine.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Lawrence!" you yell over the whine of the engine.
"Likewise!" Lawrence replies, and you shake hands. The last image you have of Lawrence is him waving on the roof as the helicopter takes off.
I'm just a proxy for..
Lawrence chuckles as the helicopter flies out of sight. Ingenuity has truly been bred out of existence, he thinks as he makes his way back inside. Show a little hurt and you'll have the media eating out of your hands. Indeed, he has been in the business of controlling his public image thanks to interviews such as the one just now. Not that everything was a lie, oh no. Lawrence has simply mastered his weaknesses and knows when to turn them into his strengths.
He enters the elevator now, though he doesn't press any buttons. "Basement," he says, and two beeps over the speakers confirm his request. Then down, down, down the elevator goes, below his artifact room.
The Basement. A rather simple term for what he's done here. The lights flick on as Lawrence strolls down the aisle. Soon, he is surrounded by Pokemon.
They weren't caught naturally, you see. Each was subdued via force-field technology he developed himself. They are contained not within Poke Balls, but in bio spheres. Like his artifacts, he has only the rarest and most beautiful of the Pokemon within these halls. Garchomp, Milotic, Tyranitar, and Dragonite…Non are Legendary, though. Not legendary in the sense of the officially classified Legendary Pokemon.
A red Gyarados clashes into the force field nearest Lawrence. It roars at him, obviously not content with its current position.
"You know, you'd be much happier if you'd stop beating yourself up like that," Lawrence says to the Gyarados. He stops in his walk to inspect its cage. "But then there wouldn't be any point to a beta test if someone wasn't trying to break it." He continues down the aisle. At the very end there is a human contained within the bio sphere.
Or at least, there was.
The collector had been down here earlier today - she had been sitting in the corner, drawing a Typhlosion with a piece of chalk on the ground. Lawrence puts his hand fourth to check the force field, but finds it completely gone. As he circles the area he notices a message beneath the image of the Pokemon.
So long, and thanks for all the fish.
-Kitty[/center]
(ooc|| Images courtesy of:
Lawrence Smiling, Hikokyu: Pokemon the Movie 2000 (screenshots)
Lugia: Twilight Spirit Wolf (http://twilight-spirit-wolf.deviantart.com/art/Lugia-Beast-of-the-Sea-63996711) ||)
All things considered, you only have yourself to blame for this.
It started with a prank. One night, you slipped into Jeremy Stuart's cubicle and rearranged his filing cabinet. Simple and nothing too damaging, right?
Wrong.
You didn't get to see his reaction the next day (you were off reporting on the latest Super Contest in Hearthome), but luckily for you, his reaction waited for you to return to Jubilife. His reaction involved your cubicle, Saran wrap, and a lot of popcorn.
A lot.
You weren't the kind of person to take things laying down. All you did was rearrange his filing cabinet. This was just ridiculous.
So the game had begun.
It's been two years since that fateful first rebuttal. You and Jeremy have never stopped getting back at each other, with each prank more creative than the last. Your friends and coworkers seemed to enjoy the show, too. They've even started a betting ring. They won't tell you what they're betting on, but you don't mind - so long as you get the last laugh on Jeremy.
And yet, you cannot help but blame yourself for this.
This morning you had been assigned to interview a supposedly famous man (though you've never heard his name) who would be in town. Or above town, as it were. According to the bio in your lap, the man, Lawrence the Third, lives in a floating castle he built over the years. The job had been given to you by none other than Jeremy, who had become the Floor Director recently.
"I want you, specifically, to do this. Lawrence is a well-known man, and if you snag the first interview you'll be on the fast track," Jeremy had said. He gave you a manila envelope. "Be sure to read every question."
On the way to Hikokyu - which your cameraman told you was the name of Lawrence's estate (apparently he's more famous than you gave him credit for) - via helicopter, you couldn't help but contemplate why Jeremy would have done this. You had gotten to know him quite well over the past two years. While he had his nice moments, it usually resulted in an especially embarrassing prank to knock you back out of the clouds. You knew there was something fishy about this, yet you could not place your finger on it.
The questions!
"There it is!"
You nearly jumped out of your seat at the sudden burst of noise in your headphones. Your cameraman had his grin pinned against the window. You decided to look, too.
You gasped. His "floating castle" was at least the size of a city! You completely forgot about your questions as you watched its many rotating propellers and sprawling metal infrastructure. As the helicopter moved closer to the landing zone, you could see more minute details through the glass in the center, and before the sun's glare took the image away you thought you could see a man inside.
Your cameraman was more excited than you, and from what Jeremy said you figured it should be the other way away around. Yet as you approached the staircase you couldn't find the energy to get excited. Well, of course you were excited, but it was more out of pre-interview nerves than happiness.
The inside room was smaller than you expected - much- but it was also gorgeous. It had a nice blue, white, and chocolate-brown theme. The walls were meticulously painted to showcase some of the rarer Pokemon found under the sea, such as Gyarados and Mantine.
"Welcome to Hikokyu."
You turned away from the room and to the door behind you, where the voice had originated from. You recognized Lawrence now, thanks to the image in his bio. You couldn't help but think he looked taller in person.
"I take you are my interviewer for this afternoon?" he began. "I'm glad you managed to find your way in alright. I would have met you on the roof, had I not been distracted in my studies." He smiles. "So, what shall I call you?"
Your cameraman spoke before you could even think. "Hi, I'm Harold. I'm a huge fan of your work!" He moved forward and shook Lawrence's hand vigorously. Lawrence smiled and went along, but you could tell he wasn't even half as excited as Harold was.
"Ahem," you said, breaking up the intro. "Not to be rude, but I was just wondering- shouldn't this room be a bit bigger? You have an awfully large building, after all."
Lawrence looked at you with those eyes. The ones that smiled their sly smile, and you could practically see cogs turning in his mind behind them.
"This is only my living quarters. The rest of the building is dedicated to my collection, workspace, and machinery, of course," Lawrence replies matter-of-factly, though with a hint of amusement. You saw him do a quick up-and-down glance of you, and it made you more nervous that you thought you should be.
"Oh. Uh, well, we should get to the interview. I've still got some business to finish before I go home today," you said.
"Oh come now. What sort of host would I be if I didn't at least offer you some sort of drink? Champagne, perhaps?"
"Water will be fine."
"Suit yourself." Lawrence moved off to kitchen area, leaving you and your cameraman to set things up. While he set up his tripod, you flipped open your folder and looked at the questions. And then, of course, you kicked yourself.
These questions are embarrassing! you think, eyes widening as you look over then. What's worse is the fact that if you want to keep your job, you have to ask every single one of them.
On camera.
To be aired over national television.
Oh, damn that Jeremy!
"And- Harold, was it?" Lawrence calls from the kitchen.
"Yeah?"
"What would you prefer?"
Harold prepares to answer, but you shoot him a glare, causing him to double check his thoughts. You don't want him drunk any time soon.
"Just water."
"My, you two are sticklers for your work. I don't suppose I could even convince you to watered-down beer, could I?" he inquired upon returning from the kitchen, glasses in hand. Harold accepted his with a thank-you. He smiles as you take yours - or was it a smirk - and you quickly look away.
"Now let's get started." With one fluid motion, Lawrence sits in a chocolate brown chair, leaving you to sit on the sofa. You notice that despite his grandeur, Lawrence moves rather stiffly. He sits with his legs as neat as his back is straight. His arms are propped up by his elbows, causing them to hover slightly above his lap, cradling the champagne glass.
You shuffle your papers, trying to think of anything but the questions you have to ask. You look up at your cameraman and see that he is ready to roll. You nod, he turns the camera on, and you wait for him to finish his countdown before you turn back to Lawrence, fully intent on getting this over with as soon as possible.
Parents call me..
"Lawrence Gelardan the Third. It is a family name going back much further than three generations, or so I've been told. I've been meaning to look into the matter but have recently found myself…distracted."
"Distracted?" you echo, tilting your head sideways.
"I have recently received several tips to rare artifacts that I would like to research while in the Sinnoh region. I'm afraid the endeavourer has consumed most of my time."
"What sort of items?"
"The usual. Carved statuettes and the like. Meaningless to those not interested in the field. However, there is one item in particular that I wish to see at the very least. Perhaps you've heard of it? It is called the 'Time-Space Access.'"
You shake your head. "Can't say I have."
"I suppose not. Now, your next question…?"
You look down at your paper. Good, it's not one of the embarrassing ones. Not yet, at least.
My Friends call me..
Lawrence doesn't consider the question for long. "I am a rather solitary worker. Those who know me professionally call me Mr. Gelardan, but I have yet to know a person long enough to be on a nickname-basis." He pauses, glancing away. "My mother, however, used to call me Larry."
You smile at his mother's pet name. The stigma attached to "Larry" just seems so opposite of the man sitting before you today, yet you decide not to comment. The way he looked away to answer tells you that perhaps it is not in the best interests of either party to pry.
I'm not an it! I'm a..
You swallow before you read this question aloud. You actually consider skipping it, but risk losing your job. So you ask it out loud, then bite your tongue and wait to be laughed at, yelled at, or whatever he might do in response.
When you look up at him, you see that Lawrence looks startled. He pauses in sipping from his champagne and stares at you blank-faced, blinking. Then he sets the glass aside, shifts his weight to his right, and tilts his head down ever so slightly. It's just enough of a tilt to turn his smiling eyes into skeptical, offended eyes.
"I beg your pardon?"
You hold the paper up and point to the question with a sheepish grin. His eyes narrow slightly as he reads it for himself, and you quickly summarize the situation you're in.
A frown tugs at the corner of Lawrence's lips. He brings his hand to his chin, considering the situation, then sighs.
"Very well. But I will be having a word with this Jeremy person. I don't care if he has more pride than a Ninetails; creating such a question is outlandish and rather infuriating.
But to answer your question I am, in fact, male."
You let out a sigh of relief. While you can tell he won't be quite as happy for the remainder of the interview, at least you don't feel so bad for asking.
I am a...
"I am a collector. I began my collection with an ancient Mew card, and it has grown into one of the most prized collections in all the world. There is not a town nor city I could go to without at least one person knowing my name, or ten people trying to rob me. That is why I have built my "flying castle," you see. With this I can travel the land without fear of my house being broken into.
I am also an amateur historian by default. Many of the items in my collection are artifacts found by separating folk lore from historical fact and locating the item myself. I suppose that makes me a sort of archeologist as well."
"Do you use your Pokemon in your hunts for artifacts?"
"I do not own any Pokemon of my own. I do not have the time to put into training them, so I do not see the point. Any Pokemon that I have ever 'used' were owned by others working with me at the time.
I suppose I should mention that I also tend to buy and sell my artifacts based on rarity and beauty. I cannot hold an infinite amount of artifacts in my gallery, and I only save room for the best. This is what gives me the title of 'most prized collection,' after all."
"So, you have no sentiment for your items? Only the most valuable are allowed to stay?"
Lawrence chuckles, and his eyes smile along with his mouth. "My dear, while it does pain me to have to be rid of one artifact in favor of another, they are, in fact, simply artifacts. It would be foolish of me to dwell on any loss."
You frown for a brief moment. He has a point, yet you cannot imagine the thought of having no sentimental feelings for items you worked so hard to obtain. And why would he need to sell any artifacts at all? His house is large enough. He could probably contain every artifact known to man in here.
Yet you cannot bring yourself to ask the question. Instead, you move on to the next one on your list.
I don't need wrinkle cream! I'm..
Any regained happiness Lawrence had from talking about his work is immediately lost with one sigh.
"32," he replies, and leaves it at that.
Do you think I need a diet?
He looks slightly bewildered, but mostly amused by the question. "I hardly think you need a diet at all. You should probably eat, seeing how scrawny you are."
"I don't think that was…" You trail off when you see a little note written in italics and enclosed in brackets, indicating something to do rather than ask.
(Describe the way Lawrence looks for our seeing impaired viewers.)
Seeing impaired viewers?? You scoff at the thought. Figures Jeremy would do this to you. With an inward groan you look back up at Lawrence, discomfort written on your face.
"I'm sorry, but apparently I have to describe your looks to our 'seeing-impaired viewers." Lawrence raises an eyebrow. You shake your head and say, "Jeremy's words, not mine." This causes him to chuckle and smirk.
"What?" you question with slight offense.
Oh, nothing. Please, continue." He shifts in his seat, so he is more relaxed and leaning forward slightly. He has those eyes again, and you swallow. Well, here goes nothing...
"Lawrence the Third is dressed simply, though the material used for his clothes betrays his riches. I'm not sure of what kind of shirt he wears, but his overcoat is a light blue with a purple stripe down the center. The same purple is repeated on the cuffs of his sleeves and the coat's collar. His pants are a lighter blue, perhaps white under the right light, and his shoes are black.
Despite his blue-and-purple theme, Lawrence's hair is a sort of leaf-green, slightly yellow color. It is spiked on either sides of his head, and two curly locks, one of each side, frame his face. His eyes, however, are purple.
His accessories include metal band earrings and a gold-pendant necklace with what looks like two crescent moons on it."
Lawrence tsks. You narrow your eyes slightly.
"What's wrong with my description?" you ask.
"You forgot to mention how dashingly it all pulls together, and how my natural good looks amplify the result." He smirks. "I would have said at least as much for you, were our positions swapped."
You feel your face grow hot with blush. You break eye contact and look down at your papers, needlessly shuffling them as you try to regain your composure. Finally you settle back on the paper with your questions. You read down the list until you come to the next one.
My emotional disposition?
When you look up you see Lawrence nonchalantly sipping from his champagne. When he finishes he doesn't set the glass down. He keeps hold of it to his left, swirling the liquid with but the slightest movements from his wrist. All the while he's smiling- thinking. Then he stops and looks at you from the corner of his eyes.
"I am a singular man, though not above nor incapable of working with others. I am an intellectual, though I find myself fascinated with fairy tales and folk lore. I am patient, above all, though while I will sit through the most tedious of procedures I will admit I have little tolerance for missing results. I am headstrong and will stick with a task until it is completed, no matter the circumstances."
He pauses, setting his glass down. Despite recent conversation, he seems a bit more downcast. He smile drops the faintest amount, and the happiness drains from his eyes.
"I have heard others say things," he begins, pausing to sigh, "that I would not have wished to hear. By them, I am called arrogant, shrewd, and high-strung." He smiles once more. "Yet, to the best of my memory, those are traits not listed as any of the deadly sins."
You purse your lips. You almost feel bad for him, but then again, he does seem to exemplify those qualities. For a moment you wonder just how affected he is by such statements, and you begin to ask but he cuts you off.
"Well? Do you have another question, or are we finished?"
You cringe slightly. Those words are practically covered in daggers, and he lifted his chin so that he has to look down on you, giving you the distinct impression that he wouldn't stand for any of your extra curricular questions on the subject. You clear your throat and move on.
Things that are Groovy:
Lawrence chuckles and seems to regain his previous easy-going nature. "Let's see…"
-My Mew card-
I know I said before that I have no sentiment towards my possessions, but this is quite a different case. It is not so much of a possession as it is a mark of my trade. It is the very thing that began my life's career. While it is quite rare and beautiful of its own right, were it to come to a choice between it and a newer artifact, I would have to keep the card.
-My estate-
I built it myself, including the artificial intelligence that controls it, Anya. I am quite proud of both, and so have an affinity for both.
-My collection-
I would be nothing without it. Of course I like it.
-Water Pokemon-
You've probably already noticed, but the creatures of the sea fascinate me. We know less about their lives than we do any other land or sky Pokemon- excluding the Legendaries, of course. It may then seem odd that I have chosen a flying house rather than a submerged one, but the answer lays in practicality. There is also the fact that though I enjoy water Pokemon, I have no wish to be one of them, like certain enthusiasts do.
-A good mystery-
Too many times I am disappointed with the search for an artifact. Either there is irrefutable proof it does not actually exist, or I find it all too easy to locate. I prefer to engross myself in the search. Recently, this has become an occurrence about as rare as the artifacts I find. This also explains why I have started turning my attention to legendary Pokemon.
You tilt your head. "What do you mean by that? Do you want to capture them or something?"
Lawrence shrugs. "Perhaps. Truly, any one of them would be a priceless addition to my collection. It is a thought that has not been ignored."
You shuffle your feet. The way he talks about legendary Pokemon unsettles you, as though he simply considers them just another item and not the magnificent beings as you see them. You quickly change the subject so you don't anger yourself.
"Speaking of Pokemon, which is your favorite?"
"Hmm?"
"Your favorite Pokemon. You've got have one, even if you don't own it. Tell me."
Lawrence closes his eyes and smiles. "'The Beast of the Sea' - Lugia," he says. The way he says it makes you think he's reciting a line from a poem or story. It's very possible that he is. You know for a fact that the people of the Orange Islands particularly revere Lugia. This makes you think that perhaps Lawrence originates from there.
"Truth be told, after my stop here in Sinnoh I was hoping to investigate the legend," he continues, opening his eyes.
You swallow. "Any plans to capture it?"
Lawrence chuckles. "We'll see."
You sigh, knowing that this topic has died. Instinctively you know the next question, and you ask it. After all, you cannot have a "like" section without a "dislike" to go with it.
Things that aren't so Groovy:
-Dull researches-
I believe I discussed this before.
-Daft coworkers-
Honestly, sometimes I believe I'd get more done by myself than with bumbling idiots who can't do a job without asking questions. It's almost as though ingenuity has been bred out of existence these days.
-Annoying trainers-
You know, the ones that try taking on gym leaders with only Cute Pokemon or singular types, sometimes despite a type disadvantage. I've been unfortunate enough to have to see these battles and it's embarrassing.
-And finally…Peanut butter-
I detest the way it sticks to everything; skin, clothes, the roof of my mouth... And no matter how much I brush I can never get rid of the taste. It drives me mad.
You suppress a chuckle when Lawrence mentions the peanut butter. It seems like such an odd thing to hate.
You're laughing at me."
A short chuckle makes its way through, and you immediately regret it. Surprise and fear splash across your face. Your hand flies to your lips and you look at Lawrence with caution. Instead of getting mad, though, he chuckles.
"I am well aware of how ridiculous it sounds. Yet truth is the truth, is it not?"
You nod, smiling now, and when he motions with his hand, you read the next question.
But..I'm afraid!
Lawrence stares at you for a long moment. "I'm not in any position to reveal such a thing to you. I realize you need to ask every question on your paper, but that doesn't mean I have to answer every question on your paper."
You put on a small smile. Time to whip out your reporter charm.
"Oh c'mon. It can't be that bad. Are you afraid of bug Pokemon? Spinarak, maybe? Or Beedril? Or maybe you're afraid of being robbed, or some such."
"No and no. I'm not telling."
You widen your smile and tilt your head, giving him the 'don't be that guy' look. "Lawrence, everyone has a fear. I myself am afraid of deep water. I keep thinking a Sharpedo is going to bite my legs and tug me down, or I'll get caught up in a school of Magikarp and whisked away. Our fears are a part of us. So tell me, what's yours?"
He considers you for a moment. Then he sighs. "Alright," he begins, making you mentally cheer, "but it is a sensitive subject so let's not dwell on it. I am…slightly claustrophobic. I can stand it for short periods of time, but for places like my workspace - where I spend the majority of my time - I like to keep things sparse."
Whether it was your reporter charm or him just teasing you, you cannot decide, but fact of the matter is he did answer the question. This causes you to beam, but like he asked, you don't dwell on the subject. You read the next question, though as you read you cannot help but notice him smoothing out his overcoat. Perhaps he had been more flustered than you thought.
I like to...
Lawrence sighs. "Treasure hunting, as the laymen call it. It's how I make my living. Of course, it is not my only interest. I like watching a good Pokemon battle, especially the Elite Four championships, and the Wallace Cup. Programming bugs out of Anya's system, making Hikokyu more efficient- and, like most scholars, I like to read." He shrugs. "It's a simple life, I know, but it's one I enjoy."
"I don't think I would call treasure hunting for a living simple."
"A matter of perspective."
My reason?
"For being a collector? Well, my great grandfather started the tradition, as it were. He collected stamps, and passed on his affinity for collecting things to his son, and it has travel down to me since then."
"But why all this?" you ask, gesturing to the room around you. "Why build a floating castle? Why seek out the greatest artifacts known to man?"
Lawrence picks up his champagne glass again. "You might want to make yourself comfortable," he says, shifting his position as he does so. "It's a bit of a long story."
Mandatory Angst:
"I was born to a family that wasn't exactly rich, but not exactly poor. My parents made enough money to keep us above the poverty line, but not much else. They didn't sacrifice anything for me, though. Whatever I wanted, I got. Toys, electronics, and eventually my very own Pokemon. You see, I was to begin my very own Pokemon journey.
My great grandfather collected stamps. My grandfather collected books. My father collected ancient cards, which were used as a sort of Pokedex back then. Me? I wanted to collect Pokemon.
Turns out, I had a horrible knack for Pokemon training, let alone collection. I ended up in a lot of trouble. Being broke in Saffron city is not an ideal situation to be in. I called my parents as soon as I could and told them what had happened. They were distraught. They said they would see about sending some money my way, but until then I had to stay at the local Pokemon Center.
The money took too long to arrive. I had no money to pay for food, so I was forced to let my Pokemon go. The money arrived the next day, but the damage had been done. I had decided to give up on collecting Pokemon. My position has changed slightly since then, but I still have no desire to train.
But I digress. It wasn't until I turned 18 that I found out my father had sold the second half of his ancient Pokemon cards to bring me home that day. The first half he sold to buy my very first Pokemon and related starter items…I never thanked him for that."
For the slightest moment - the very briefest section of time - Lawrence looked…depressed. His shoulders slumped, his eyes unfocused, and his smile dropped. But the expression left as quickly as it had arrived, leaving you to stare with mixed feelings.
"But, as fortune would have it, I would soon regain at least one card of his. After my failure as a Pokemon trainer my mother fell deathly ill. We were advised that the only thing we could do was to give her the best last days we could. So, we sold my great grandfather's stamp collection and moved to the Orange Islands. Shamouti, to be exact. Mother died three months later.
My father and I stayed on Shamouti. I became fascinated with the local legends. It wasn't long until I found my first artifact, though this had nothing to do with the legends. It was one of my father's ancient cards, a Mew. I heard from a fisher than a woman had traded it for a basket of fish, and he in turn had traded it for new planking for his ship. I managed to track the card down and earned it back from an elderly woman by taking care of her Skitties for almost a year. I didn't tell my father about it until I had it back. I couldn't show him, however, because he had gone blind thanks to a raging Gyarados.
Keeping the card in my possession was a short-lived moment. By the end of the year I had to sell it to pay for our finances. We still had leftover debt from my mother being sick, and with my father blind there was that much less money coming into the house. But I put my treasure-finding skills to the test once more with one of the island legends this time. After perhaps a month of research I found the Silver King's Rock, which was later used to evolve a Slowpoke into a particularly intelligent Slowking.
From there I thought I knew my true calling. Just to test my skills, I tracked down my father's Ancient Mew card once more. I found it in Saffron City, of all places. Once I bought it back from a trainer who claimed to have "found" it I knew that I was meant to collect artifacts.
So there you have it. My life's story. I went about treasure hunting, and by age 21 I was known throughout all of Kanto. By 25, the entire world. I refuse to attach myself to any of my artifacts because I learned in my childhood and young adult years that things come and go. Indeed, I continued the practice of selling artifacts so I could fund Hikokyu, the first flying house. She herself is a prized possession. But now that she is built, any artifacts I sell are merely for profit or for the sake of doing so. I suppose it's become a sort of habit."
You simply stare at him for a long moment, and he stares right back. "I'm-" you begin, but he holds up his hand and stops you.
"Don't apologize. I am perfectly content with who I am today. I regret nothing of my past, so you have no reason to feel sorry."
Something flickering in the back of his eyes tells you this is a lie, but you dare not call him out on this. Instead you stare for a bit longer, then you remember that you have more questions. Well, one question left, as it were. It was just the mandatory "anything else?" question. You ask it.
Oh and by the way...
Lawrence sighs and raises from his seat. "Why don't I show you my collection," he says, though its more of a question than a statement.
"Sure," you reply, standing as well. He downs the rest of his champagne while your cameraman detaches the camera and hoists it to his shoulders. Lawrence then leads you to a large elevator. Since you recall his claustrophobia, you decide to stand far enough away from him, guessing that that is why the elevator is so large in the first place.
When the door opens on the lower level, Lawrence looks almost relieved to walk outside. When you follow him you quickly realize you are in the bulk of the ship; the main storage space for his artifacts.
Lawrence dives into details about each and every piece, giving you the complete tour. You nod your head and listen while Harold works on getting good angles for each item. Each has its own interesting backstory, but the story you're most interested in is what appears to be his latest project.
"What's this here?" you question, nodding to the construction zone in the center of the room.
"I'm installing a personal elevator of sorts," Lawrence replies. "It will also be the main hub for Anya. I'm afraid I can't go into much more than that."
You nod, then glance down at your watch. "Oh, shoot!" you exclaim, letting your arms flop. "Harold, pack up, we've got to go."
"Leaving so quickly?" Lawrence looks at you with a questioning gaze.
"I'm sorry, but I have stuff I need to do and since I've asked every question I'm OK to go now. I hate to leave so suddenly, but…"
Lawrence smiles. "I understand. Shall I see you out?"
You nod "yes." Harold gets the last of his shots, then turns off the camera and it's back upstairs for everyone. Harold grabs his equipment case from the living quarters, and then Lawrence leads the way to the roof where the helicopter pilot is waiting. Upon seeing you he puts down his book and starts the engine.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Lawrence!" you yell over the whine of the engine.
"Likewise!" Lawrence replies, and you shake hands. The last image you have of Lawrence is him waving on the roof as the helicopter takes off.
I'm just a proxy for..
Lawrence chuckles as the helicopter flies out of sight. Ingenuity has truly been bred out of existence, he thinks as he makes his way back inside. Show a little hurt and you'll have the media eating out of your hands. Indeed, he has been in the business of controlling his public image thanks to interviews such as the one just now. Not that everything was a lie, oh no. Lawrence has simply mastered his weaknesses and knows when to turn them into his strengths.
He enters the elevator now, though he doesn't press any buttons. "Basement," he says, and two beeps over the speakers confirm his request. Then down, down, down the elevator goes, below his artifact room.
The Basement. A rather simple term for what he's done here. The lights flick on as Lawrence strolls down the aisle. Soon, he is surrounded by Pokemon.
They weren't caught naturally, you see. Each was subdued via force-field technology he developed himself. They are contained not within Poke Balls, but in bio spheres. Like his artifacts, he has only the rarest and most beautiful of the Pokemon within these halls. Garchomp, Milotic, Tyranitar, and Dragonite…Non are Legendary, though. Not legendary in the sense of the officially classified Legendary Pokemon.
A red Gyarados clashes into the force field nearest Lawrence. It roars at him, obviously not content with its current position.
"You know, you'd be much happier if you'd stop beating yourself up like that," Lawrence says to the Gyarados. He stops in his walk to inspect its cage. "But then there wouldn't be any point to a beta test if someone wasn't trying to break it." He continues down the aisle. At the very end there is a human contained within the bio sphere.
Or at least, there was.
The collector had been down here earlier today - she had been sitting in the corner, drawing a Typhlosion with a piece of chalk on the ground. Lawrence puts his hand fourth to check the force field, but finds it completely gone. As he circles the area he notices a message beneath the image of the Pokemon.
So long, and thanks for all the fish.
-Kitty[/center]
(ooc|| Images courtesy of:
Lawrence Smiling, Hikokyu: Pokemon the Movie 2000 (screenshots)
Lugia: Twilight Spirit Wolf (http://twilight-spirit-wolf.deviantart.com/art/Lugia-Beast-of-the-Sea-63996711) ||)
