TRAINER - PROFESSOR ABIGAIL APPLE ; SUZY

[attr="class","bioheader"]history.

[attr="class,"bioentry"]most of the characters on this site reference childhood. the characters are functioning teenagers-slash-adults who have lived through puberty (much to everybody's surprise), whose formative years have gone by, and have already experienced what they need to pave their road (or stumble like a drunken man, as is oft the case) into the big world of reality.
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abigail, however, is twelve, and would implore you to remember that. so she has the misfortune of explaining herself from birth.
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birth is never a simple thing, is it? there's screaming for hours on end, long-winded descriptions of the beautiful night in which people were born on, totally ignoring the visceral torture suffered by anybody with eardrums within a thirty meter radius. there was a bunch of that, at abigail's birth, at least, so she'd like to start off with that lovely note.
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the screaming person in question was a college professor, and the poor sap whose arm's getting crushed would be a brain surgeon. abigail cries when she's born; she already knows of the high expectations and mental stress she's about to endure, so she decides to let her emotions flow while she can. dripping with blood and mucus. and tears. plenty of tears.
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cut forward... what's a good time? well, at this point, abigail sets the keyboard down and tosses a dart at a random list of temporal units she has hanging around. really. that exists. she hits a year, by the way, and so picks up the keyboard and looks through her mother's diary for about a year after her birth. abigail then types down a few key details.
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turns out, she learned to read a few months ago. neither parent is sure of what happened; they surmise, from the puddle of books on the floor and the videos of other children reading playing in the background, that the girl decided to forget any form of parental tutoring and taught herself the art of literacy. abigail's reading through simple books about hungry worms and shiny fish now, her stubby little hands flipping through popout interactive pages. she should read them again sometime. that fish was very shiny.
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abigail, out of curiosity, peruses the next few pages of the diary. within another year, she's reading through children's novels... but she's making a sour face while doing so. somebody's introduced science to the girl, and now magic and dragons seem all too silly to her. record time for the destruction of childhood imagination, to be honest. normally that takes the entirety of the education system to do. so the girl moves onto math and science books.
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her mother's getting increasingly worried about how abigail's doing as a child around the time she's five to six, because abigail comes home every day from kindergarten knowing more than the teacher. looks like mrs. dickson never bothered to review advanced algebra. daddy mentions an acceleration program in alola, and the apple family scampers on over to the tropics in hopes of keeping their daughter up to speed. or the other way around.
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by the time she's eight, abigail moves right on to high school, accelerating faster than a late racecar driver. she's a very logical, no-nonsense girl who has the tendency to revel in how terrible she makes other people feel, and at this moment, professor apple puffs her chest out and says "you're damn right!". however, she slouches a bit when she reads the excerpts of how even her parents are finding it hard to connect with her. maybe she should have slowed down? but the past is the past... right?
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the tone of the diary begins to be more and more somber as abigail approaches ten, to her dismay. entries are few and far in between, what with mrs. apple's daughter gallivanting off to decathlons and live pokemon demos and open lectures. abigail's beginning to feel chills up her back when her mother fears for her daughter's life, what with the field observations that abigail's doing at this point.
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abigail puts down the diary and simply begins to type emotions into the keyboard at this point. her mother realized that she had no friends. no sleepovers. no chatter, no rebellion, no driver's license. it feels a bit dark and a bit empty, when abigail suddenly feels the brunt of adulthood, not on a child, but on the parents who wanted a little more time, a little more love. her lab coat feels heavy. her tie feels tight.
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abigail is twelve. she would have been in seventh grade, right now. but between ten and now, abigail decided to sacrifice her innocence for a doctorate, her laughter for credits, and her childhood for the title of 'pokemon professor'. she only slept four to five hours every day, with few naps in between. her parents found it hard to talk to her, what with the clatter of the keyboard and the silence of paperwork between them. and now she's here. in the big leagues.
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what's the use of being on top if there's nobody there with you?
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her chair is flat as she sits in silence. the vertical bar flickers on and off. abigail slouches in her chair more, her long hair reducing friction between her lab coat and the leather. she'd talk of flowing hair, and heavy hearts, and cold screens, but they don't make sense. her hair is not liquid, her heart remains the same mass, and her screen's temperature--
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abigail decides to press enter and close the screen.

[attr="class","bioheader"]personality.

[attr="class,"bioentry"]abigail wants to be a child.[break][break]
biologically, she is a child, but really, being a professor at her age is anything but childish. it's what fuels unrealistically high parental expectations for other children, debate from the scientific community, and about a billion calls from various tv shows wanting to parade the genius little girl who just so happened to be able to understand doctorate-level biology and physiology.[break][break]
no, no, abigail has too many traits that could be considered adult. she has a certain level of maturity and professionalism that makes her better than most twenty-year olds, and she's absurdly responsible. she knows how to pay taxes and all the adulty things that adults do, and admits her faults, and understands consequence, and all that. she's the antithesis to every fuckboy out there.[break][break]
but abigail also knows that she doesn't have imagination, and she doesn't really get the fun of falling in love or being crazy or inviting friends over. she doesn't know how to host a party other than "serve food and be generally friendly", and she's even worse at being a guest at parties. her science knowledge doesn't even help her take someone home, goddamn it, because she's twelve![break][break]
abigail wouldn't really call it a stretch to say she's socially awkward. not quite inept, but... she clearly doesn't know what she's doing, at times. she has zero fashion sense other than "business casual" and "business casual with a lab coat", and trying to reach out to other kids just results in chaos. it's hard for her to get along with other people.[break][break]
she's sarcastic, too. she knows that. she snipes and snarks at people as a form of humor, because that's what they did in college, and shit if she doesn't absorb stuff like a sponge. as a result, it's kinda hard to tell if she's joking or actually insulting you, because whenever abigail jokes around, she gets this condescending tone which she hates that she has.[break][break]
she'd love to be a kid, really! make butt jokes or whatever the youth does these days. but she's... well, she can act like a functioning adult (or at least one that's been cooped up in a lab for three days), but she can't really let loose. abigail's trying to get better, she really is. but there isn't a book for "how to be immature and stupid"; in fact, most books try to swerve people the opposite way.[break][break]
the worst part is? she sounds like a professor, if she tries to talk to other young trainers. "i can evaluate your pokedex" or "you know, this type of pokemon is found here". she could even spout philosophy, from how much required reading she'd burned through in high school and college. to be honest, she'd probably be giving out starters to people older than her now, if she really wanted to. it's just so unnerving, even for her! she's supposed to be the loud, annoying trainer with the hat, not the old guy in the suit![break][break]
she doesn't know if it's a want to feel accepted, or something missing from her, but... abigail is a stereotypical adult, a professor, even, and she only wants to be twelve again. but it's so, so hard to do that. going back to a past that never existed is... well. it's difficult. because she's caustic and she's well-dressed and smart, and she doesn't know how to rock t-shirts or play video games or have friends.

[attr="class","bioheader"]other.

[attr="class,"bioentry"]abigail is currently doing the league challenge while conducting field research on alola's pokemon. officially, she's doing a collaboration study with professor kukui on the pokedex. unofficially, it's abigail's attempt to reconnect with her younger side, and an initial field study with the help of a more experienced professor.[break][break]
abigail's favorite color is pastel orange. her favorite food is a good medium-rare sirloin steak. she likes her coffee black. her favorite number is 1. her favorite letter is A. her favorite pokemon is fluid, but at the moment, it's wailord. her favorite typing is fighting. if she had to choose to like either guys or girls, she'd choose girls, but she doesn't know yet, given she's never felt anything.[break][break]
legally, abigail can actually provide starters and pokedexes to any new trainers. she is funded by the pokemon league to provide these necessities, along with minor resources such as poke balls or potions. however, she willingly chooses not to, at least, not until the end of her alola journey. abigail feels she hasn't matured enough as a person to fully understand that role in someone's life until she's done her own adventure.