[PKMN OPEN] TRUMPETS: A HOENN RP

Last Sighted:
A sort of delicate silence had settled itself about the laboratory that early morning. Birch's team overlooked as the Head Professor himself had hunkered to the leftmost wall of the humble building, clutching back a curtain drawn over a window with the hand that wasn't wrapped protectively around a coffee cup. There was a tersity to his expression reflected onto the little outlook into Littleroot; the aids momentarily swore it was a different person overseeing their early morning routine, for there was nothing jolly in the way he held his ample jaw, and were Birch's hands shaking?

"Guess the pickings aren't so promising this year, " said Myrtle in facetious consolation to Aspen.

"I must be seeing things," Birch mumbled. "Too much caffeine. Someone slipped Full Heal in my coffee."

He dwelled still, seeing nothing, clearly; nothing that hadn't changed for decades. The rise of dawn ensured an influx of aspiring Pokemon Trainers like subtle petrichor before a storm—the inundation coming any minute now—and yet there was hardly an air of eagerness about the beaten-down town along the beaten track with its brown-haired-and-occasionally-heterochromatic townsfolk stalking over its beaten dirt roads in the same drowsy lethargy they evinced from the time they woke up to the time they likely slept. There was nothing to look forward to in truth, Birch reflected; the Flaaffy would come flocking to his door wanting nothing but their essentials—good for him; they ought to leave and get their childish egos crushed as soon as possible—and the townsfolk would continue gossiping about his daughter. That was that until that moment where a six-foot rainbow lurched from behind the trees and those same townsfolk were suddenly shaking off sleep, turning heads to ogle someone new, someone in patterned pants, someone with a prismatic mane discording with the age of their face and the resolve in their eyes, someone whose existence was indisputable and entirely non-illusory. The head professor suddenly regretted ever feeling plaintive over an average day.

"I've finally gone senile," Professor Birch continued to delude himself. He found himself besmirched with questions. Why was this man conjuring images of earth-towing, equine creatures from another tropical island in his head that he had never actually seen? Why was his hair both knotted and hanging at the same time? Why did he wear a lab coat outside of a lab? Why were the wizened lines on his face furrowed with such austerity? Who was he out to get? Who had crossed his nerve? Why had the fellow so determinedly maneuvered around that townsman—the fat one with glasses and a technology fetish who liked traveling to uneventful places—, steadying the passerby with creased hands as the portly onlooker unknowingly stood in his path and now stared after the man in awe as the rainbow steered past, kicking up dirt, descending upon a victim, the next portly man in the path…

"Why, oh, why…" Head Professor Birch thus found himself saying in a low voice. The questions died in his head as he let out a sharp breath, turning to face the concerned bearings of his aids.

"There's not a problem, is there?" Dr. Aspen inquired.

"Damn right, there's a problem," Birch barked back. "The complimentary—! Oh-h—! They let him board—! That… That…! Speaking of senile!"

In his incoherence, the great Professor rushed away from the wall, blowing past both Myrtle and a thoroughly bewildered Aspen, doing nothing of substance for a hysteric moment before instantaneously leashing in his sanity as he gripped the sides of a cylindrical instrument, steadying himself. "Okay, one of you, I need you to get to the database right now and find 'Doctor Moana Kealolamola-something'".

Aspen's eyes bulged.

"Go! I'll give you more directions! The other one of you—Mo, go to the back, bring me a copy of the documents."

"Which one's, Doctor—"

"—the one's all the Trainer's have to— the League ones, Mo! I gotta get this guy off my case! Hurry up!"

Subject Details:

"Professor Gooseberry", as became his moniker, was born in Iki Town, Melemele Island; Alola region, presumably without abnormal circumstances applying to either his family life or childhood, granted he was an only child with few friends, even considering the intimacy of the settlement. Evidence of a respectful relationship between Moana and the now-Melemele Kahuna, Hala, exists, though Hala was quick to partake in the traditional island challenge. Moana was never to follow; instead, he surprisingly chose to pursue education beyond Trainer's School—in those times, unrequired—throughout adolescence and enter the realm of Pokémon research. He left at age eighteen to study abroad in Sinnoh before returning to Alola in his late twenties with a teaching degree and major in specialized monster biology.

Moana has been perpetually adamant in contributing towards the understanding of Pokémon as a whole and, in his first few decades, he saw the most efficient way of doing so as tackling one species at a time. Of course, the library of discovered Pokémon was perpetually expanding with the gradual development of Pokémon-oriented technology, the sudden discovery of a far-off region called "Unova" and another called "Kalos", and, to Professor Gooseberry's dismay, the serious consideration and integration of popular myth—"culture-driven rumors", as he saw them, for no one but "Her" devotees had ever seen Mother Arceus. Suddenly, dedicating time to an individual Pokémon was no longer prioritized by anyone but Moana himself. The enigmatic nature of Unown or the appearance of Tangela's shrouded face were disregarded in favor of subjects pertaining to the glory of the League Challenge and gym circuit, established in regions like Kanto, and, even more prominently, the invention of the modern Pokédex. It all derived from it, the researcher deduced: the supplement of worldly knowledge with extreme exaggerations, and yet no one in the scientific community would take accountability for the absurdity. 'Who writes these entries?' he would loudly impugn, year after year, knowing full well how off-put he has made and will continue to make his peers. As Professor Gooseberry sees it, they cannot persist in dodging the question, but questioning is no longer enough. Extensively, Dr. Kealola'ole had shifted from his office in Heahea City to teaching advanced classes in Hau'oli, propagating the prospect of questioning all that the Head Professors preach. The title 'Professor Gooseberry' in itself is an ironic one as all Professors, elected heads of their regional researching communities, have explicit ties to the League, a world order encouraging little more than belligerent and stupid, stupid children. Even Kukui, in the end, gave in; Moana had great faith in the Alola Head at first but, when he was let off from his teaching job for "passive insubordinance", he knew his beloved home region was doomed. That and the establishment of Alola's personal Pokemon League caused Moana to essentially snap.

In recent months, he has finally taken to fighting back. After what could be described as unscrupulous detective work and abuse of some "Professor's aid"-allocated privileges, Professor Gooseberry has uncovered one of the brains behind the distribution and development of the modern Pokedex model. Addressing Dr. Tachiki Birch in-person is the initial step in confronting the entries actual authors—he has convinced himself that this is true, and as far as Goose is concerned, he has rarely been wrong before. Thus explains his arrival in Littleroot Town.

Goose's expansive experience in Pokemon research has imbued him with a glut of knowledge extending past the quintessentials and he is capable of recounting information peculiar to over 280 individual species. The scientist will, assuredly, call upon scientific knowledge in the instance of a Pokemon battle, meticulously analyzing an opponent's partner to determine proficiencies and flaws. Consequently, Goose relies on his partner being as discerning as he. Of course, intellectuality has its limits as well; Goose falters in face of foreignness, as his confidence is reliant on his level of understanding, and he lacks the intimate courage and initiative to tackle an incomprehensible opponent; it is not to paint Goose as a coward all-around. His appearance implicates his audacity, and perhaps he is too audacious, willing to throw an arm over the shoulder of any stranger indiscriminately or storm a select gathering when he sees he should be acknowledged. Goose is old; he is opinionated and sufficiently jaded to the extent where he is indifferent towards any opposition. He has come to Hoenn with one goal—to enlighten—and he will achieve that goal above all else.

Subject:
Dr. Moana Kealola'ole

Accomplice:
Sylvester