The process of trading was quick and painless experience, with little to no fuss involved. Aside from the odd feeling that always came with having ones material body broken down and converted into light energy through a process of particle dematerialization, is was relatively smooth.
Granted there there was always the potential risk of there being some sort of malfunction with the trading machine, resulting in her atoms being scattered across the atmosphere, dooming her into an oblivion of thoughtless limbo, but from what the gothorita had heard from listening in on the conversation the humans were having, the odds of that particular event happening were actually very low. Hopefully anyway.
No matter the outcome, it was still quite an unsettling experience for her, and she had a hard time imagining that she would miss it anytime soon.
From the inside of her pokeball, the gothorita was only vaguely aware of a discussion that was taking place, most likely between the old man and the trainer that had traded her.
Former trainer, she remembered with a certain amount of moroseness.
She would admit that, even though she had only been a part of the young girls' ragtag team for a short while, no more than a few weeks she felt, it still stung the gothorita just a little to know that she was being traded away, and for a magikarp of all things. In all honesty, she was not sure if she should feel feel insulted by the girls lack of taste, or relieved that she would not have to spend anymore time around the idiot for the exact same reason. To preserve some semblance of contentedness, she chose to go with the latter.
After a few minutes of inactivity, the gothorita was beginning to feel the onset of boredom settle in. She only found being contained in her pokeball to be tolerable at best, and never liked being cooped up in it for any length of time. She wanted to force her way out so that she could stretch her limbs a little, and as the minutes seconds ticked by that option was looking ever more tempting. In spite of it hwever she kept herself reigned in, not wanting to make a bad first impression on her new master. For some reason most humans did not particularly care for a pokemon that came out of their pokeball without any express permission, so for the time being she waited until she was summoned.
As it turned out it was only another minute before this happened, and in a brief flash of light and energy the gothorita began to feel herself materialize once more, gaining solidity as her feet touched. Dictated by a force of habit, the gothorita quickly checked herself to make sure that nothing was missing. Nothing appeared to have been lost, and the gothorita took the time to stretch her short limbs and brush off her black skirt. That was when she noticed an elderly man dressed in a grey business suit standing a short distance away from her. He was slightly hunched over as he supported himself a peculiar looking white cane.
"Well hello there," the old human said to her in a cheerful tone that did little to reflect his age as he extended a bony hand towards her. "Pleased to meet you there lass."
The gothorita hesitated slightly at the gesture. She had seen many other humans greet each other in this same manner, but had never had the courtesy extended to her. To be greeted in such a way by this man was an unexpected and somewhat surreal experience for her. Deciding not to keep him waiting the gothorita reached up and placed her comparatively small hand in his. To her continued surprise the man did not shake it as she expected, but instead gave it a light kiss. Almost immediately she felt a blush darken her pink face. She knew he was only being courteous, but still she hoped this would not be a regular occurrence.
Rubbing the spot where he kissed her, the gothorita looked around at their surroundings, noticing that they were still in the pokemon center where the trade had taken place. She also noticed that aside from the nurse at the front counter who was busy writing something down on a sheet of paper, they were the only ones in there.
Suddenly she heard the old speak up behind her. "If you're looking for your old trainer, I'm afraid to say that the young lady's already left."
For some reason, hearing that stung the gothorita more than it should have, and she was left feeling unsure as to why.
"Didn't even make the time to say a proper goodbye either," the old man continued, his muttering laced with disappointment. "Trainers these days. Right disrespectful it is." The gothorita gave the man a curious look, noticing that his wrinkled face had adopted a sour expression that would have given any ghost type a good run for their money. "Still, I suppose it's for the best that I managed to get you away from her." Suddenly he leaned down towards her and whispered, "Between you and me, that magikarp I gave her? Real ornery type. bound to give her a bit of grief, especially when it evolves."
The old man began to laugh quietly, and despite herself the gothorita could not help but utter a brief chuckle as well. She decided that she liked him much more than her trainer already, and within moments the feeling of being slighted vanished as it was replaced by mirth.
"Oh! How silly of me!" the man suddenly exclaimed, startling the gothorita a little. "Here we are just wasting time and I haven't even introduced myself yet." Clearing his throat, the old man tapped his chest with the top of his cane and said, "My name is Gordon. Gordon Williams, though my grankid just calls me Pop. You can too if you like."
The gothorita quirked an eyebrow at the statement, unsure exactly how to answer. Her thoughts were interrupted when Gordon gestured towards her and proceeded to ask, "Now then, what might your name little miss?"
The blank stare he received was answer enough.
"Hold on. You mean to tell me that your trainer never thought to give you a proper name?" Gordon questioned. The gothorita shook her head in response, unsure why it was that that important. She soon found out when Gordon added, "Well that's just not going to do at all. I can't just call you by what you are all the time. What if I walk into a room full of gothoritas and I need to find you?"
She supposed that he may have had a point there, although the likelihood of coming across a room full of her kind.
"Would you like for me to give you a name?" Gordon asked her in a soft voice, and once again the gothorita felt that same sense of surrealism of being around him. Until now, no human had shown as much consideration towards her. The way he spoke and acted around her was unlike any of her prior experiences with humans, and she found herself having a hard time processing it. Still she supposed that she would at least humor the old man, as she gave him a short nod in reply.
Appearing satisfied with her answer, Gordon smiled brightly before putting his fingers to his chin in thought. "Alright then, lets see here," he muttered quietly. After a few moments of silence that felt a little awkward for the gothorita his wrinkled face brightened, and he said, "I know! How about Olga?"
Olga?
The gothorita may not have had any special preferences with taking on a name, but she would still like to not have one that did not sound so . . . heavy. She shook her head, alerting him to her disapproval.
"No?" Gordon said, looking genuinely surprised. "I thought you would've liked it. It was my great aunts' name after all, rest her timid soul."
With a name like that, the gothorita doubted that his aunt was all that timid. It made her sound like she could sucker punch a machamp.
"Well alright. How about Mavis then? That was my regular aunts' name."
The gothorita considered the suggestion for a brief moment, mulling it over in her mind. It was certainly much more appealing to her, and it a certain ring to it that she rather liked. Quite a bit actually. Within moments her decision was made, and she gave Gordon a short nod of acceptance.
"Wonderful!" Gordon said loudly, flashing her a bright smile. "I still think Olga would've suited you perfectly, but Mavis is good too."
The newly christened gothorita felt the compulsion to roll her eyes at that, but managed to resist the temptation. She liked this man, and she would rather not risk offending him in a way that would make him think any less of her.
"Well then, now that that's been taken care of, how about we start heading back to my estate. I'm pretty sure you'll like it there."
Mavis nodded, then proceeded to mentally prepare herself to be called back into her pokeball. However, for the third time that day she found herself being caught by surprise when instead of storing her away in her pokeball. Gordon turned and began making his was way towards the exit, his cane producing a sharp click every time it met the tiled floor of the pokemon center. When he noticed that she was not following him he turned around and said, "Well? Are you coming or not? there's plenty of room in my car for you to sit, and I don't want to keep my driver waiting for too long."
Resigning herself to the fact that the rest of her day was going to be about as normal for her as the past few minutes had been, Mavis followed him outside, where she found a large black car that she had heard the humans refer to on occasion as a limo waiting outside at the curb. A tall clean shaven man in a uniform waited next to it, holding the door open for them to enter.
"Well?" she heard Gordon say, and she looked up to see him motioning for her to go first. "What are you waiting for?"
Mavis knew it would take some getting used to, but she found herself thinking that she might enjoy this change quite a bit.