Post by Matsu on Nov 27, 2009 17:48:09 GMT -5
You walk into the office, immediately surprised by the state of disarray. Chicken-scratch notes litter the floors, bookshelves, and desk. Piles of miscellaneous books create precarious towers, some fallen and their building blocks spread randomly. Charts are plastered on the walls, from sonar scans of the seafloor to topographical maps of the region.
You clear your throat.
From the surface of the desk pops a redhead, obviously too absorbed in his work to notice your entrance.
"Oh, sorry, but no one is supposed to enter until after five PM..." A quick glance at the digital clock covered by an old mythology book, and he apologizes, removing black reading glasses. "My fault, I must have lost track of ti- wait, who are you?
"We had an appointment, I believe," you inform, "Seven-thirty five on today's date. I may be a bit early, but I was told to just come in anyway." You flash a badge, stating that you're with a surveyor's association. You grab a chair, taking a packet of papers labeled Recovering Pangaea off of it. He smiles weakly and takes the packet from you with a quick snap of the wrist.
"That would be confidential." He stuffs it in a book on Volcanism, and laughs lightly."Ignore the mess, if you will. I thought this appointment was nest week. That, and I've been so wrapped up in studies, I haven't had time to clean. Anyway, shall we get this started?"
Parents call me..
He frowns, looking nostalgic.
"My full name is Maximillian Vladimir Rhynston. No one's called me that in years."
My Friends call me..
"Can I just pretend that I actually have friends, or can I use underlings for that?"
"I just need any nicknames." As you explain, he looks in a coffee cup dissatisfactorily.
"I see.You mind if I light up, by the way? Your eyes flit to an ashtray, wondering if the piles of butts are from that week, or that day. You wrinkle your nose, but permit it.
"I would have, even if you disagreed, I hope you know that," he mumbles through a filter. He turns in his chair and opens a window behind him, shivering. "Back to the question, people pretty much call me Maxie. I don't exactly like it, but I suppose it's better than other names.And of course subordinates refer to me as 'Boss,' but that's to be expected."
I'm not an it! I'm a..
He looks at you expectantly. "Sorry," you mumble, "I'm required to say it."
"I'm male, thank you very much, and I'd rather not dwell on such a useless topic."
I am a...
"I prefer to think of myself as a geologist, or just a scientist in general. It's a shame so many call me a criminal for having a dream..." He exhales a sigh of smoke.
I don't need wrinkle cream! I'm..
"That was rather tactless."
"I'm required to say such things," you explain.
"That doesn't mean that it wasn't a rude question. Nevertheless, I actually should use wrinkle cream, if I really cared about appearances that much. I'm thirty-four, though I look a bit older. Apparently that saying about stress aging a person is right...Or maybe it's my habits."
Do you think I need a diet?
He scoffs, rolling a pair of crimson eyes.
"I should speak to whoever wrote these questions. there are people with worse tempers than I, you know. And many women would get so horribly offended by this question, the way it's worded. What exactly do you mean?"
"Basically, what do you think you look like?"
"Can't you just write that from your own observations?"
"I suppose." And you begin to write.
He is rather short, actually, though I only saw him stand once. Blazing crimson hair mirrors his eyes. His skin is pale. and, as he had mentioned prematurely aged. He is slim. Painfully slim. His features are sharp and definite, though his shoulders slope a bit into rather thin arms. At hand, he has bony pianist's fingers.
As for clothing, he prefers high collared, tailored shirt-jackets, usually that end in a trench. The one seen most on him is a shade of crimson identical to his hair and eyes, with a jagged black patch on the right side, which continues to the sleeve. On this, he proclaims his team's symbol. The jacket stops at his mid-thigh, which is covered by black or grey slacks, color depends on his mood, that seem form-fitting until they flare at the bottom near ebony boots.
"Could you give me dimensions? Like, height and weight?"
"I'm about five-foot-four, and one hundred and twenty-three pounds."
My emotional disposition?
He laughs lightly. "That particular phrasing makes it sound like I'm crazy. I suppose I should be offended by that as well."
"I guess I should talk to whoever wrote these questions."
"I know you should. I'm not crazy, so please don't listen to what everyone says. I''m pretty much calm most of the time. Well, most of the time. When I get into an emotional mood, I tend to be very black-and-white about it; for example, happy means more like hysterical, angry means more like enraged. I suppose you could say that that makes me bipolar, but I don't take any medication, and no one has ever diagnosed it, so that should be perfectly normal, right?"
He pauses, and snuffs out the half-burnt cigarette.
"You could describe me as the eye of my storm of hotheaded supporters. It seems as if my ambitiousness is their reason for accompanying me."
Things that are Groovy:
"I'm going to ignore the fact that you just said 'groovy. That's a bit more my generation than yours. No, scratch that, that's even before my generation. Bottom line; please don't use the term 'groovy' ever again.
"As for things that appeal to me, I'll list; Earth Science in General, obviously; mythology; curried foods; and my substance abusing- that being alcohol and tobacco."
He studies your face for a reaction. "Believe me, if I could quit, I would, but I believe that addiction is the same thing as attraction, if that makes sense at all."
Things that aren't so Groovy:
He exhales deeply, exasperated. "What did I say about using the word 'groovy?
"I'm just reading the paper."
"And you couldn't rephrase it?
"I'm required not to."
"Oh, well. Anyway, I'll list yet again. It seems easier that way, yes? Small Talk; Public Speaking; Useless Subordinates; and Cold Weather.
But..I'm afraid!
"As long as this is kept a bit secret..." He avoids making eye contact.
"Sorry, but it's my job for it not to be. I'm sure your fears aren't too embarrassing."
"Comparatively, you're right. I've always been afraid if water- since I can't swim. Also, crowds unnerve me."
I like to...
"I have some strange hobbies, as a warning beforehand."
"Everyone does. I've known people to actually enjoy watching paint dry."
"Then the fact that I enjoy watching lava dry and predicting which rock will form from it isn't too surprising to you."
You suppress a giggle. "No, that's a new one." He 'hmm's, and continues.
"I also enjoy reading and sketching ranges of mountains based off of sonar scans and topographic maps, hence my sense of decor. It's a shame that I'm so horrible at it."
Which is slightly true, you note, looking at a malformed trench near his right hand.
My reason?
"My reason for being a trainer? Pokemon always seem to like me more than people...Pokemon don't judge because of your ambitions. That, and they're wonderfully useful partners."
Mandatory Angst:
"I wouldn't call myself 'angsty.'"
"Then just give me a brief summary of your personal history." He takes a deep breath.
I was born in Lavaridge, in Hoenn, to a single wife whose husband had disappeared when she was bout six months pregnant. Tierra Rhynston, my mother, died during childbirth.
"I was raised in a Fall Arbor town orphanage until it was discovered that the volcanic ash in the air helped cause asthma; which is now proven to be complete and utter Tauros-shit -- pardon my French. We were moved to Rustboro,. Beautiful villiage, it was back then. Our building was on the edge of the Petalburg Forest. Often times, groups of the older children- including myself - were allowed to venture into the forest, as long as we got home by sunset. Some of us would find Pokemon and we'd bring them with us as pets. The benefactor didn't mind, as long as we didn't get into battles with them. When I turned ten, we weren't allowed to explore anymore.
"The orphanage was shut down on my sixteenth birthday. I was the second oldest in the complex; so Lindsay, the eldest, and I were free to live on our own. And then we found out why our former home was shut down.
"Rustboro expanded in such a way that no city should in the span of six years. I remember gazing in awe at the apartment complexes, wondering how they had built structures even taller than the trees that they'd cut down to make it.
"As I walked through what was left of the forest, Pokemon scattered. I wondered if these were the same ones that had run up to us just a few years back. They now feared the humans that destroyed their homes, and killed their parents, siblings, and friends. I couldn't help but sympathize. We were two of a kind; nowhere to go, nowhere to live.
"When I left the forest, a week later, I had taken an orphaned Poochyena egg with me. It was then that I decided that there wasn't enough room for so many humans and do many Pokemon on the little land that Hoenn had to offer.
"I spent the rest of my life caring for the infant Poochyena and researching on how to solve that dilemma. The answer came to me during a trip to Sootopolis, when I was twenty-four.. The newly evolved Mightyena, who I had dubbed Mei, meaning 'Alliance,' due to our strong friendship, ran into a crevice in the stony walls. I followed her into the Cave of Origin, and became astounded by the stories told on the walls, telling me of an ancient land-shaper.
" After about two years of extra research, I came to realize that I obviously couldn't summon and control it on my own; hence, the team was born."'
Oh and by the way...
"People always see me as a criminal," he sighs. "What they don't seem to understand is that my ambition- the expansion of the landmass, that is, is for their own good. If we keep abusing the land we have as we are, the only choice we have left is to have more land. If we start that early, I figure, then life will grow on the new earth. My ways of doing such..." He glances away for a moment, then stares at you. "I do only what is necessary for the promotion of humankind, whether they think it to be evil or not." He lets his words sink in a bit before continuing. "Also, I don't believe in Arceus."
I'm just a proxy for..
"I am no proxy, but one who controls the pawns."
The door opens, and you jump with surprise. A young teenage girl walks in, wearing a cocoa sweater and a black trench over slacks.
"Don't worry, he's mine," she smiles, flipping her long, familiarly crimson bangs out of her nerdy glasses.
"I thought I told you that I never wanted to see you again!" Maxie snaps, nearly growling at the girl. She pouts.
"But..."
"It's bad enough you stole my Japanese name for your username, Matsu! Now get out of my sight!"
She leaves, and the man apologizes for his outburst. You thank him for the interview, and promptly leave.
You clear your throat.
From the surface of the desk pops a redhead, obviously too absorbed in his work to notice your entrance.
"Oh, sorry, but no one is supposed to enter until after five PM..." A quick glance at the digital clock covered by an old mythology book, and he apologizes, removing black reading glasses. "My fault, I must have lost track of ti- wait, who are you?
"We had an appointment, I believe," you inform, "Seven-thirty five on today's date. I may be a bit early, but I was told to just come in anyway." You flash a badge, stating that you're with a surveyor's association. You grab a chair, taking a packet of papers labeled Recovering Pangaea off of it. He smiles weakly and takes the packet from you with a quick snap of the wrist.
"That would be confidential." He stuffs it in a book on Volcanism, and laughs lightly."Ignore the mess, if you will. I thought this appointment was nest week. That, and I've been so wrapped up in studies, I haven't had time to clean. Anyway, shall we get this started?"
Parents call me..
He frowns, looking nostalgic.
"My full name is Maximillian Vladimir Rhynston. No one's called me that in years."
My Friends call me..
"Can I just pretend that I actually have friends, or can I use underlings for that?"
"I just need any nicknames." As you explain, he looks in a coffee cup dissatisfactorily.
"I see.You mind if I light up, by the way? Your eyes flit to an ashtray, wondering if the piles of butts are from that week, or that day. You wrinkle your nose, but permit it.
"I would have, even if you disagreed, I hope you know that," he mumbles through a filter. He turns in his chair and opens a window behind him, shivering. "Back to the question, people pretty much call me Maxie. I don't exactly like it, but I suppose it's better than other names.And of course subordinates refer to me as 'Boss,' but that's to be expected."
I'm not an it! I'm a..
He looks at you expectantly. "Sorry," you mumble, "I'm required to say it."
"I'm male, thank you very much, and I'd rather not dwell on such a useless topic."
I am a...
"I prefer to think of myself as a geologist, or just a scientist in general. It's a shame so many call me a criminal for having a dream..." He exhales a sigh of smoke.
I don't need wrinkle cream! I'm..
"That was rather tactless."
"I'm required to say such things," you explain.
"That doesn't mean that it wasn't a rude question. Nevertheless, I actually should use wrinkle cream, if I really cared about appearances that much. I'm thirty-four, though I look a bit older. Apparently that saying about stress aging a person is right...Or maybe it's my habits."
Do you think I need a diet?
He scoffs, rolling a pair of crimson eyes.
"I should speak to whoever wrote these questions. there are people with worse tempers than I, you know. And many women would get so horribly offended by this question, the way it's worded. What exactly do you mean?"
"Basically, what do you think you look like?"
"Can't you just write that from your own observations?"
"I suppose." And you begin to write.
He is rather short, actually, though I only saw him stand once. Blazing crimson hair mirrors his eyes. His skin is pale. and, as he had mentioned prematurely aged. He is slim. Painfully slim. His features are sharp and definite, though his shoulders slope a bit into rather thin arms. At hand, he has bony pianist's fingers.
As for clothing, he prefers high collared, tailored shirt-jackets, usually that end in a trench. The one seen most on him is a shade of crimson identical to his hair and eyes, with a jagged black patch on the right side, which continues to the sleeve. On this, he proclaims his team's symbol. The jacket stops at his mid-thigh, which is covered by black or grey slacks, color depends on his mood, that seem form-fitting until they flare at the bottom near ebony boots.
"Could you give me dimensions? Like, height and weight?"
"I'm about five-foot-four, and one hundred and twenty-three pounds."
My emotional disposition?
He laughs lightly. "That particular phrasing makes it sound like I'm crazy. I suppose I should be offended by that as well."
"I guess I should talk to whoever wrote these questions."
"I know you should. I'm not crazy, so please don't listen to what everyone says. I''m pretty much calm most of the time. Well, most of the time. When I get into an emotional mood, I tend to be very black-and-white about it; for example, happy means more like hysterical, angry means more like enraged. I suppose you could say that that makes me bipolar, but I don't take any medication, and no one has ever diagnosed it, so that should be perfectly normal, right?"
He pauses, and snuffs out the half-burnt cigarette.
"You could describe me as the eye of my storm of hotheaded supporters. It seems as if my ambitiousness is their reason for accompanying me."
Things that are Groovy:
"I'm going to ignore the fact that you just said 'groovy. That's a bit more my generation than yours. No, scratch that, that's even before my generation. Bottom line; please don't use the term 'groovy' ever again.
"As for things that appeal to me, I'll list; Earth Science in General, obviously; mythology; curried foods; and my substance abusing- that being alcohol and tobacco."
He studies your face for a reaction. "Believe me, if I could quit, I would, but I believe that addiction is the same thing as attraction, if that makes sense at all."
Things that aren't so Groovy:
He exhales deeply, exasperated. "What did I say about using the word 'groovy?
"I'm just reading the paper."
"And you couldn't rephrase it?
"I'm required not to."
"Oh, well. Anyway, I'll list yet again. It seems easier that way, yes? Small Talk; Public Speaking; Useless Subordinates; and Cold Weather.
But..I'm afraid!
"As long as this is kept a bit secret..." He avoids making eye contact.
"Sorry, but it's my job for it not to be. I'm sure your fears aren't too embarrassing."
"Comparatively, you're right. I've always been afraid if water- since I can't swim. Also, crowds unnerve me."
I like to...
"I have some strange hobbies, as a warning beforehand."
"Everyone does. I've known people to actually enjoy watching paint dry."
"Then the fact that I enjoy watching lava dry and predicting which rock will form from it isn't too surprising to you."
You suppress a giggle. "No, that's a new one." He 'hmm's, and continues.
"I also enjoy reading and sketching ranges of mountains based off of sonar scans and topographic maps, hence my sense of decor. It's a shame that I'm so horrible at it."
Which is slightly true, you note, looking at a malformed trench near his right hand.
My reason?
"My reason for being a trainer? Pokemon always seem to like me more than people...Pokemon don't judge because of your ambitions. That, and they're wonderfully useful partners."
Mandatory Angst:
"I wouldn't call myself 'angsty.'"
"Then just give me a brief summary of your personal history." He takes a deep breath.
I was born in Lavaridge, in Hoenn, to a single wife whose husband had disappeared when she was bout six months pregnant. Tierra Rhynston, my mother, died during childbirth.
"I was raised in a Fall Arbor town orphanage until it was discovered that the volcanic ash in the air helped cause asthma; which is now proven to be complete and utter Tauros-shit -- pardon my French. We were moved to Rustboro,. Beautiful villiage, it was back then. Our building was on the edge of the Petalburg Forest. Often times, groups of the older children- including myself - were allowed to venture into the forest, as long as we got home by sunset. Some of us would find Pokemon and we'd bring them with us as pets. The benefactor didn't mind, as long as we didn't get into battles with them. When I turned ten, we weren't allowed to explore anymore.
"The orphanage was shut down on my sixteenth birthday. I was the second oldest in the complex; so Lindsay, the eldest, and I were free to live on our own. And then we found out why our former home was shut down.
"Rustboro expanded in such a way that no city should in the span of six years. I remember gazing in awe at the apartment complexes, wondering how they had built structures even taller than the trees that they'd cut down to make it.
"As I walked through what was left of the forest, Pokemon scattered. I wondered if these were the same ones that had run up to us just a few years back. They now feared the humans that destroyed their homes, and killed their parents, siblings, and friends. I couldn't help but sympathize. We were two of a kind; nowhere to go, nowhere to live.
"When I left the forest, a week later, I had taken an orphaned Poochyena egg with me. It was then that I decided that there wasn't enough room for so many humans and do many Pokemon on the little land that Hoenn had to offer.
"I spent the rest of my life caring for the infant Poochyena and researching on how to solve that dilemma. The answer came to me during a trip to Sootopolis, when I was twenty-four.. The newly evolved Mightyena, who I had dubbed Mei, meaning 'Alliance,' due to our strong friendship, ran into a crevice in the stony walls. I followed her into the Cave of Origin, and became astounded by the stories told on the walls, telling me of an ancient land-shaper.
" After about two years of extra research, I came to realize that I obviously couldn't summon and control it on my own; hence, the team was born."'
Oh and by the way...
"People always see me as a criminal," he sighs. "What they don't seem to understand is that my ambition- the expansion of the landmass, that is, is for their own good. If we keep abusing the land we have as we are, the only choice we have left is to have more land. If we start that early, I figure, then life will grow on the new earth. My ways of doing such..." He glances away for a moment, then stares at you. "I do only what is necessary for the promotion of humankind, whether they think it to be evil or not." He lets his words sink in a bit before continuing. "Also, I don't believe in Arceus."
I'm just a proxy for..
"I am no proxy, but one who controls the pawns."
The door opens, and you jump with surprise. A young teenage girl walks in, wearing a cocoa sweater and a black trench over slacks.
"Don't worry, he's mine," she smiles, flipping her long, familiarly crimson bangs out of her nerdy glasses.
"I thought I told you that I never wanted to see you again!" Maxie snaps, nearly growling at the girl. She pouts.
"But..."
"It's bad enough you stole my Japanese name for your username, Matsu! Now get out of my sight!"
She leaves, and the man apologizes for his outburst. You thank him for the interview, and promptly leave.
