#guest muse. (personal assistant fumiko)

[avacynthia]

"Miss Cynthia is out-of-office. I don't know for how long. But she's not accepting any challengers, either. She has several obligations to attend to over the next month--which you should have known. I keep her schedule updated daily on the online challengers portal."

Seated behind her desk in the Sinnoh League's lobby, a visibly-irritated Fumiko doesn't even bother looking up from her piles of paperwork or flashing monitors, waving her hand in a dismissive shooing motion. (She's already so done here. This could have just been an email...)

"...You're dismissed now. In other words, leave. Now. Have a lovely day..."

[avacynthia]

"To the many...well-intentioned fans who have sadly attempted this, or are planning to, hear me now: stop trying to send Miss Cynthia ice cream. Through the mail."

"Rabid fans like you are the reason why I have to process all this nasty post in the first place. And, by the way, I don't care if you package the ice cream with a NeverMeltIce--it still makes a mess in the end. It's a wildly impractical gift. It's disgusting. Stop."

Pinching her nose with a latex-gloved hand, Fumiko gingerly drops the latest unfortunately-melted parcel into her Gulpin's waiting maw, slowly losing a little more faith in humanity with every tribute...

[avacynthia]

"I'm...relieved that I took the opportunity to leave them behind when I did. So incredibly relieved."

Fumiko is ignoring the chaos, finding much-needed solace in her comforting sea of spreadsheets and schedules instead. Tap tap tap...

[avacynthia]

@soardived replied to your post “"Miss Cynthia is out-of-office. I don't know for...”:

PLEASE :((( PLEASE MISS FUMIKO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEA

Fumiko presses fingers deep into her temples. Oh no. Oh no.

"...Believe it or not, Miss Rickshaw, shouting 'please' over and over again will not magically teleport Miss Cynthia back to the League office. It won't accomplish much of anything, actually, except make my eardrums bleed."

"...If you insist on staying here, then quiet down and do something productive. Like take him for a walk." Fumiko jerks a thumb back towards her Slakoth, who smiles sleepily at Willow before slumping over with a contented snore. Fumiko's laser-focused attention is already back on the computer, typing away.

"...You're in luck. He's real energetic today."

[avacynthia]

"...And while we're on the subject, please stop sending insect specimens here as well. Mr. Aaron does appreciate those...um, passionate gifts, but he has his own mailing address. One which is--fortunately--far outside my jurisdiction..."

Fumiko needs a vacation. (She refuses to take one.)

"To the many...well-intentioned fans who have sadly attempted this, or are planning to, hear me now: stop trying to send Miss Cynthia ice cream. Through the mail."

"Rabid fans like you are the reason why I have to process all this nasty post in the first place. And, by the way, I don't care if you package the ice cream with a NeverMeltIce--it still makes a mess in the end. It's a wildly impractical gift. It's disgusting. Stop."

Pinching her nose with a latex-gloved hand, Fumiko gingerly drops the latest unfortunately-melted parcel into her Gulpin's waiting maw, slowly losing a little more faith in humanity with every tribute...

[avacynthia]

"...Furthermore, to all aspiring 'authors' out there, please cease the sending of your erotic novels and fanfictions here at once. Mr. Lucian also has his own deposit box for fan gifts, but I assure you--he's already preoccupied with a fully-stocked backlog of proper books and research. The Sinnohan Elites and Champion cannot afford to waste a single second reading or reviewing your...questionable work. I suggest sending to another League with more time on their hands."

"Hmph. The submitted works that we have received are decidedly low quality and riddled with obvious mistakes, anyways. Good luck out there, so-called authors. You'll need all you can get, apparently."

"To the many...well-intentioned fans who have sadly attempted this, or are planning to, hear me now: stop trying to send Miss Cynthia ice cream. Through the mail."

"Rabid fans like you are the reason why I have to process all this nasty post in the first place. And, by the way, I don't care if you package the ice cream with a NeverMeltIce--it still makes a mess in the end. It's a wildly impractical gift. It's disgusting. Stop."

Pinching her nose with a latex-gloved hand, Fumiko gingerly drops the latest unfortunately-melted parcel into her Gulpin's waiting maw, slowly losing a little more faith in humanity with every tribute...