"Bonjour, Conrad. My name is Barnaby Finch." A similar greeting given with matching energy; as always, Barnaby's characteristic smile was on full display as well. It was hard not to smile, after all, in the face of someone so energetic.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance." He began, returning Priam's handshake. "I'm just sorry it took two rounds before meeting the best person here." Barnaby's tone was teasing but not altogether unconvinced. Perhaps the young man across from him was the best. The next five minutes would be telling.

"A scientist, hm? What's your specialization?"

Barnaby took a moment to really take Priam in. He was cute, but young, and didn't really fit the typical lab rat stereotype.

"I'm a broadcast journalist with HNN. I host a morning talk show, among other things."

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"You're not wrong." He replied with a pleasant chuckle. "Hands-on experience can sometimes serve one better than academic knowledge." But as a lab aide? Barnaby was skeptical, though he kept that to himself.

"More than my voice, possibly. My main media is television and film." Barnaby's expression became noticeably brighter as he explained his work. "The talk show I host is called 'The Bee's Knees with Barnaby Finch.' It covers all kinds of topics; whatever I'm feeling that week, honestly."

His cobalt eyes flicked around the venue, taking in the Kalosian flair. "I do plan on covering this event on my show. I've met quite the cast of partners so far: a mechanic, police officer, and now a lab aide."

Barnaby's gaze returned to Priam. "So, what's the most interesting project you've assisted on?"

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"Really?" An incredulous question if there ever was one. How old was this kid? Nineteen, twenty tops? The thought of him rubbing elbows with the League's head scientists seemed a little far-fetched to Barnaby.

"Quite an impressive feat, Conrad. I wish I could hear more about your exploits." Unfortunately, time was not on their side. The clock was winding down on their meeting.

Feeling that there may be a possibility for an interview or at least a network contact with Priam, Barnaby withdrew one of his business cards from his coat. He slid the slip of high quality cardstock, embossed with the journalist’s name, business title, etc., across the table.

"I'm sure my viewers would love to keep tabs on the future of one of Hoenn's up-and-coming scientific minds." He stated, an encouraging smile on his lips.

"Keep me in mind if you're ever interested in joining the show." Someone with his energy and pretty face would do well on television.

"Or if you need an in at HNN. I can get you connected with any of the other departments."

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"Thank you! I'll be sure to take you up on that at some point." Access to the League's research department? That could prove usual for Barnaby's career interests and as a lead-in for ROCKET. Little did he know of Priam's criminal involvement.

The jarring ring of a buzzer overhead spelled the end to their short meeting. With a smile, the journalist rose from his seat and extended his hand in farewell. "It was a delight to meet you, Conrad. Good luck in your next rounds."

As Barnaby excused himself from the table, he wondered: had Priam been the best partner so far? Thinking about it, he'd have to say no. Watching paxton concordas squirm a little had been far more entertaining.

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