Jean flinched at the teacher's sharp dismissal, but didn't say anything, instead returning to his seat in silence while the next person took the stage. While he knew he shouldn't feel bad, mainly because he came up with all of that on the fly, and he got through the entirety of the performance, Jean couldn't help in feeling a little embarrassed as he sat down. Still, he said the beginning was good, right? And it was really the first time he was doing this, so it wasn't completely terrible, so all logic should point to the fact that it was a fairly good performance for his experience level. But then you compared it to the others in his class, whose level he was supposed to be at... he just needed more practice is all.
Not really caring about or wanting to watch the performances following him, as he didn't want to be permanently stuck in a fog of negativity, Jean instead focused on the Pokemon in front of him: the Spritzee who seemingly shrank twice her size as she huddled to herself in embarrassment. Giving her a small smile, Jean stroked Spritz' head gently with a finger, whispering to her underneath the next performer's act. "Don't worry, don't worry. We'll do better next time. All we need to do is practice control, right? You did a good job for your first time, and you're still the prettiest Pokemon here. You know I'll always love you." At that, Spritz perked up once more, chirping and flying up to nuzzle Jean's cheek with beak. He burst out in laughter for a quick moment before remembering the type of environment he was in. As soon as he caught a few people looking over, he motioned for Spritz to settle down on his shoulder, which she happily did.
Trying not to stand out too much, he focused back on the stage, where Butch was walking away from. Darn, did he miss her? While she was brutish, he couldn't help in being at least a little curious as to what type of performance she had put on. Hearing Ribbon Girl (wasn't her name was something like Arya?) snicker, he guessed it wasn't much. In his mind, brute behavior probably translated to a mess on stage, leading to some horrifying mental images. Oh well. At least he knew that there were others who bombed the introduction too.
His eyes perked up when he saw who was taking the stage next. It was that cool guy! Dylan! Leaning forward in his seat a little, Jean watched as Dylan and his Sceptile worked together, filling the stage with the light of a solar beam before launching it into the air at- wait, Dylan himself? And then bursting into a rose right after that... it must have taken some real control on the Pokemon's part to be able to pull that off! But seriously, taking a full on solar beam was beyond incredible. Jean wondered if any of his Pokemon could pull off an attack like that? No doubt his Doublade wouldn't mind slashing at him for a bit. Heh- it would be like an alternative swords dance. He would have to write that down.
Unfortunately, the rest of the acts weren't as good as the ones prior to them. The remainder in the class, mainly people that waited until last because they hoped class time would run out before they were forced to take the stage, were fairly average at best. Several crashed out of nerves, and there was even one girl who walked off stage mid-performance, leaving her Pokemon alone and confused. Jean didn't know who to feel bad for in that situation. But really, if it wasn't a boring performance, it was depressing, and so he couldn't help in finally letting his eyes wonder the desks of those around him.
His gaze sat on the desk adjacent to him, where a stranger worked on what looked to be a drawing of a girl next to some fluffy pokemon he had a hard time identifying from the distance. Eventually, however, he noticed the beak of the fluff ball, and decided it must be a Spritzee, or a really pudgy Swablu. That left the girl, no wait- that didn't look like a female body he was working on. A boy with long hair next to a Spritzee... was that supposed to be him? Cheeks turning a light shade of pink, his vision zoomed out to look at the artist. Miel. Of course. Guess he was a stalker or something after all? Jean opened his mouth to say something about the drawing, only to realize how rude it might sound for him to be peeping. But really, wasn't it ruder to draw a person without their consent? But wait, what if it was some other person he was drawing that wasn't Jean? Debating internally about it for a few solid minutes, and then realizing how long he had been staring at Miel, Jean eventually settled on turning away and looking towards the door. Miel really should just stick to drawing Eevees or Pikachus or something normal.
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"...all thanks to my wonderful Pokemon, who helped me from my family and be who I really want to be."
Mr. Allen's eyes jumped up at that statement, his full focus coming back and settling on Butch and her Pokemon. She obviously didn't look like the average coordinator would- she didn't seem into the pretty dresses and cute Pokemon side of the stage. But at the same time, her performance- it stood out. What better way to bring out the natural nature of a fighting-type Pokemon than in a real fight? And the trainer looked like she was enjoying herself too. Mr. Allen almost would have written it off as a spectacle that encapsulated everything he was looking for, if he had not focused on the Pangoro like every good judge should. That Pangoro... his niche as a fighting-type was definitely being displayed, that was for sure, but something was also off. His expression looked static compared to his enthralled trainer. There were definitely some serious Pokemon in the world, but the way he behaved was off-putting. It was like finishing a large puzzle, only to find that the last piece didn't quite fit in. Something was off with the Pokemon. That aside though, it was a perfect display of talent, and Ms. Brasche definitely knew what she was doing. "Very good, Butch. And thanks for finally answering my question." What that question was, he didn't say. Hopefully someone else could catch on to what he meant.
The boy, Dylan, and his Sceptile also put on quite a show, putting a focus on Evindal's balance between strength and control- one of the most difficult road blocks for a performer. The Pokemon definitely knew what it was doing. The trainer on the other hand- jumping into an attack like that was a good way of showing off his Pokemon's strengths while also displaying the trust between the two. However, at the end of the performance, it left Dylan sparkling on stage, rather than his Pokemon. Not to mention it was beyond dangerous. Solar Beam was a really powerful move, after all. Just like the majority though, he had potential. He just needed a little polishing, and Mr. Allen let him know exactly that in his short, but sweet response. "Try to focus more on your Pokemon near the end, and be careful doing that in the future. Could use some polishing, but good job. Next."
The rest of the performances, however, were fairly disappointing. Either lazily put together, or having extreme potential, but shattering from a breakdown of nerves, it was the most boring wave of the bunch, and Mr. Allen couldn't remember the names of those trainers if he tried. He even found himself peaking back at his book where he left off. However, it did eventually end though, and class time was running close to a close. After the last performer exited, something Mr. Allen himself almost didn't catch, he finally stood up, popping his back once before climbing on to the stage like he did when the class started. Standing in the center and giving himself a small moment of silence, Mr. Allen finally began to speak.
"My name is Jeffery Allen, from Johto's Olivine City," he began, his voice clear and booming, completely the opposite of it was before. He continued, voice resonating throughout the auditorium with honest conviction. "My job is to shape each and every one of you into the coordinator you want to be. But it's not that simple! You first have to know your Pokemon, and then yourself. I'm only here because my Pokemon helped me realize after a long journey of our own that I wasn't put on this Earth to cater to people's amusement, or sit at a desk all day judging trainers over the smallest of mistakes. I want to inspire others, including the next generation of performers, like yourselves. That's what being a coordinator means to me. However, the only way I can hope to bring out your full potential through your time here at Luvendale is to get you to ask the same question: what does being a coordinator mean to you? How did you get here, what do you think you want to do in the future, and what do you actually want to do? The answer may surprise you, and I guarantee that, by graduation, you will have learned more about yourself and your abilities than you could ever even dream of. And you will continue to learn of your strengths and shortcomings well into the future. You can do amazing things, once you figure out what it is you really want out of life."
He paused, a small smile creeping on his face. "Now then," he began, before throwing a Pokeball into the air. "Ignis! Use Flamethrower!" The light of the ball expanded to reveal the form of a large Typhlosion, who immediately started off with a battle cry of his own. Then, he opened his mouth, and it felt like the temperature of the room climbed a thousand degrees. There were no fancy flips or tricks with the fire, or pretty clothes for the professor, in fact. There was only a single burst of flame emitted from Ignis' mouth, one that was by far larger than any Flamethrower should be. It filled the room at a tilt, burning hot above the heads of the students. Meanwhile, on stage, the passionate expressions of both trainer and pokemon, as well as the Typhlosion's neck flame that grew twice its size to outline the creature's head inn inferno, worked to make Ignis seem like the physical incarnation of fire itself.
Through beads of sweat rolling down his face, and a sudden mixture of emotions that included fear, shock, and total amazement, Jean stared on at the flames above him, wide-eyed and wordless.