Jean squinted at the building in front of him as he hurriedly twisted open his over-priced water bottle. Back bending in a tired stretch, he lifted the bottle to his lips, and let the refreshingly cool liquid rush down his throat. The sunlight was harsh here, and after walking all the way across town and back in it, the Kalosian was coated in sweat, causing his shirt to cling to him tighter than normal. Jean hated the sun. He hated sweat. More importantly though, he was starting to hate this city, and that girl. It was tough enough being stood up on dates, but being stood up for a friendly chat over coffee? What the hell was that about?
Was he being too persistent? Maybe. Was he acting like a creep? Maybe to an outsider- actually, make that a definite yes. First hitting up the cafe and waiting their for hours to no avail, emailing her repeatedly, and now going to her place of work to find her? Hell, he'd be freaked too if he were anyone else. But the way she sounded over their emails for the last nights, not to mention the way she sounded during the television interviews... she wanted help to crack this conspiracy as soon as possible. And now that he was here in Nacrene, ready to listen to her and exchange theories over that video, she was gone with the wind? If Jean hadn't spent his precious time analyzing every freaking frame of this thing, he'd be off touring Nimbasa and Undella in a heartbeat. This was his vacation time. He was just supposed to talk with her, and be done with all his work until he was back in his Lumiose City studio. But no. Apparently, and unbeknownst to him, a boiling month's workout on his end was part of their deal too.
Gulping down half the bottle before calling it quits, he put it back in the leather satchel hanging from his side, before gazing at the bag's straps in a small fit of envy. The six balls adorned there, five luxury balls and one love one, all seemed to glint at him in a mocking manner. While Jean loved his pokemon dearly, probably more than anything else in the world, their aversion to physical workouts irked him at times. That quirky Spritz loved being out of her Pokeball whenever she could, but tell her to actually walk a longer distance than a block? She suddenly loved tiny metal confinement, and Jean had to exert himself all alone. Panting slowing down, but still a frustrated at his day so far, Jean grabbed his love ball of the strap, and tossed it into the air, calling out a fluffy bundle of pink and purple feathers adorned with two horns, a mask-like beak, and a black little bow-shaped tail. Once the Aromatisse was at his side, not a single feather sticky or out of place, Jean spoke. "Enjoy the ride?" He asked, only to receive a chirp in reply. Too tired to sigh, he eyed the building in front of them: The Nacrene Museum.
There were no guards in the front. A quick scan of the lawn told him that much. He wasn't sure if that was a bad thing or a good thing. It was bad because that meant he'd actually have to go inside to find Clara (didn't she say she worked during the night shift?), but at the same time, being indoors meant air conditioning. Just one step through the door, and Jean felt purified. Taking his sweet time absorbing the cool air as he walked towards the front desk, Jean stopped in front of Steve, ignoring the other's dead-inside gaze to peek through at the museum. "Hi, yes," Jean started off, fairly distracted as he tried to squint past a few displays. Why did the entrance have to be so narrow? "My name is Jean Février, and I'm not really here for the museum, per say," his head bobbed back and forth as he searched through the trainers trying to find a girl with a badge. "You see, I was wondering whether or not- uh..." As Jean turned back around to face the front desk guy, he suddenly noticed the large feature of him missing. His eyes widened in surprise at the dangling sleeve, before quickly averting the sight. He didn't handle disfigurement well, and now, the Meowth got his tongue. "I am, uh, well- I was just- shit. I'll just go and search for her inside." He stared at the wall behind the man, unable to look him in the eye.