Tracking License Testing [Hrist]

It was test time. Hrist had gotten their hands on a pokemon, a real connection to one, like what their father had with his Crobat. So, what came next was only natural- an application for a tracking license, permission to hunt down nera and specific pokemon. It'd serve two purposes- they could bring in data, earn credits. Explore further on their own, more safely. Who knew what opportunities would come from that?

Well, honestly, it probably wasn't going to change too much, BUT! Hrist was still looking forward to getting their license and moving into the future.

So, what did all that entail? Well, the form gave two options. One of them was showing that they could identify and prepare medicinal herbs- boring, but easy enough- or battle a pokemon.

Much more exciting, but, as Hrist looked over at her freshly-bonded partner pokemon. He was small, and still didn't know how to properly brawl. There was a risk that he wouldn't fight well enough to earn them the license. Hrist lifted their thumb to their lips, and nibbled the nail. A quick check of their watch, and they hummed thoughtfully. They had time- but not nearly enough to get Gunter up to scuff.

Hrist also was fairly certain that they wouldn't just let them get into the ring. With, they supposed, some understandable reasoning, honestly- not many humans had the wherewithal and ability to stand up to any reasonably strong pokemon, let alone anything stage two or beyond. Hrist ran a hand through the wild mass of their wispy mane, and then tried to tame it down. No, that wouldn't be an option. They grumbled a moment, and then hopped up to get dressed. First, the suppression collar. It always felt like they were being compressed into something far, far too tight- at least for a few minutes, until they got used to it. Stockings, comfy clothes, their trusted jacket. Their pumpkaboo bag, upended on their unkempt bed. They scooped Gunter up as he chirped crankily at them before they pushed him back into the bag. It was going to be a little while, and it wouldn't do to just leave his mischievous ass out and about.

Hrist made their way out into the streets of Brookfell, a jaunty gait carrying them from the little nook they had claimed as their own to the main thoroughfare. Sounds filtered in, the busy streets filling up steadily. Hrist double-checked to make sure that Gunter was good and secure, and made their way to a platform with what was essentially a lift to another section of the mines. Rather than take one of the passenger carts that had to be shared, they clipped onto a standing strand, barely big enough for one, and took in the sights of the city to comfort themself. There was no real need to be so nervous, was there? All they had to do was get there, file for the medicinal herb identification test, and pass. No big deal.

Right? Right.

Hrist stepped off the thin platform and onto solid ground once more, and they were off. The testing building was one of the few 'official' constructs in Brookfell that they were fairly certain had little to nothing to do with the seedier undersides, and, as such, they felt less certain in its walls. Up to the front desk, to turn in their schedule marker and get the application. Tedious paperwork they were never wholly certain that they were filing properly, check this box, then that. Disable external communications and connections on their core for the duration of the test. Turn in the paperwork. Wait for an official to come get you.

All in all, a good hour, and Gunter had dozed back off like the sleepy baby he was. Hrist entered the room with the judge, sat down where they were told to sit, and waited. They presented them with a lot more plants than they had been expecting, and told them to, 'make some medicine, in enough quantity to comfortably last a few days'.

First, Hrist set to work sorting the herbs by type, discarding what they knew to be only harmful, then what needed to be cut with other things to be helpful. Things that were only beneficial. That all took a good twenty minutes, and then there was the mortar and pestle work to do. They presented a sufficient quantity of medicines, stepped outside while they assessed what Hrist had produced, and, eventually, came out and directed them to go get their picture taken, and to pick up their license.

What had they even been nervous about?