victory_road | Open party log, as promised!

Who: Fiddleford McGucket and anyone in Goldenrod who saw his post -- or hears the ruckus.
Where: The junkyard behind the Goldenrod magnet train station.
When: February 13th!
Summary: A WILD BIRTHDAY HOOTENANNY.
Rating: Moonshine.
Notes: Feel free to treat this like a mingle log and tag around!

When Fiddleford McGucket said party streamers, no one knew that what he meant was dozens and dozens of feet of plastic tape pulled out of old casettes and tied to any high-up piece of old rusty metal McGucket could find.

When Fiddleford McGucket said enough beans for everybody, no one could have known that there would be a bean can mountain over six feet tall piled precariously on a tarp.

When Fiddleford McGucket had said moonshine made from a Ribombee, it might have crossed some more fearful minds that he had meant that literally. Thankfully, he didn't. There are two jugs of the honeystuff going around, and if anyone who's obviously less than sixteen or so gets hold of one of them, they'll find the jar lifted out of their grip by a pair of dirty bandaged hands, possibly while McGucket himself is hanging upside-down above their heads from a garbage edifice. It's good, but don't drink too much of it. There's also nonalcoholic cider that's rather more plentiful. McGucket says it's made from apricorns, but no one is sure how he managed it. It tastes funny but it won't put hair on your chest, unless it does. It also looks not so different from that honeyshine. Be careful not to mix them up.

The banjo music, though, is exactly as promised.

The party is centered around a bonfire with a great big old pot hanging above it, full of cooking beans. The empty cans are being fed to McGucket's Trubbish and a wild one or two around. You might spot a Rattata or a spooked Pidove skittering out of a pile of trash, and McGucket himself has had to chase a Stunky away with his hat more than once.

But he greets every single party guest with a broad smile and a hearty handshake, and you're not leaving this party hungry if he can help it -- as long as you like beans.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Harry's walking around with his pokemon, a drampa. The guy on the gear suggested he'd bring some with him because wild pokemon? He's not really sure.

Either way, hey it's a guest he saw on a gear once.

"Oh. Hey ...Stanford Pines, wasn't it? Nice to see you again."

Look at him, he's being social. Heather would be proud.

"Oh! You too. It's unusual meeting people in person when I'm so accustomed to conversation almost entirely over the Pokégear."

It's like seeing a dog walk on its hind legs. Which he has seen before, and it's just as odd as advertised. He takes a good look at that Drampa, clearly intrigued.

"Is this handsome fellow with you?"

Harry nods at that and then glances over at his Drampa whose turned to look at the new person.

"Yeah. He's my new starter. Woke up with him back in the starting town. His name's Falkor."

Because what else are you going to name something that looks like a luck dragon?

Oh boy. What else indeed. Ford lets out a small heh which morphs into a full laugh. It's still odd that he gets so many chances to really laugh now. He tries to take advantage of it when it happens.

"You won't believe this, but my Drampa is named the same thing."

That makes him laugh as well.

"Really? Well it's good to know I'm not the only fan of The Neverending Story here, aside from my daughter I mean."

"It was part of the core curriculum of important media my niece insisted on showing me. Apparently by missing the 80s I missed most of the best cinema."

He still isn't caught up on all of it; there's some stuff it wasn't in Mabel's nature to include, and some stuff from the 90s and 2000s they put off, but he got a pretty good crash course.

"Your daughter is here?"

He's not jealous. Not much.

"You missed the 80's...yeah there were a lot of good movies then." Just thinking back. "The Shining, Star Wars, Ghostbusters, Nightmare on Elm Street, The Thing."

He likes genre movies okay....and horror. The mention of his daughter makes his face light up a bit.

"She is. She's been here for a while. I was here a for a while myself a few years back. Only showed up again recently. Much to my relief she was still here. Her name's Heather Mason."

Oh! Heather Mason! He's aware of and on good terms with Heather Mason, actually. Once you share a disturbing dream walk with someone you can't not at least be allies. His expression lights up with recognition, both of the name of the girl and the names of several of those movies. Not all of them (is Ghostbusters like Phantom Bustifiers? Probably. He's used to things common between universes getting a little lost in translation sometimes) but most of them.

"Oh, I've met her. She's a fine young lady. Knows her way around a rifle."

This is proper and appropriate praise. Right?

The sad thing is, it sorta is. Considering Silent Hill means you end up pretty good with guns or you're dead, but at the same time Harry frowns.

"She is and ...Wait, when was she using a gun here? I thought the use of pokemon basically made those unnecessary."

Did something happen while he was gone? Congrats Ford, you have a worried parent now.

"Oh -- no, no."

He probably should have elaborated. Ford Pines is just kind of bad at elaborating, even on a good day.

"There was a period of about a week where many of us had a shared dream-walking experience. It was a dream rifle. As far as I am aware we were never in any real danger."

As far as he's aware. Dreams are some weird shit and thanks to Certain Things he doesn't entirely trust anything that happens in them.

Just...visible relief.

"Thank goodness. You scared me for a moment there. I'm not sure how well you know her ....or our past but there...there...are more then a few situations where that wouldn't have surprised me, if it had been in real life."

Silent Hill will leave you with those fears forever. Even after you die.

"Part of that long story, I assume?"

But no. It doesn't surprise him. Even knowing precious little about Silent Hill he got the impression that that world was far more Heather's than his own, and that alone is enough to tell him she knew how to use a rifle long before he saw her pull one out from under that gas station counter.

"Honestly, I realize that weapons are far less practical here when everyone has multiple fire-breathing monsters following them around, but I still do wish I could arm myself with something more reliable than a pocket knife."

Not that he couldn't do serious damage with a pocket knife. It's just... he's modified the strap across his chest to hold his Pokéballs, but he's used to the weight of a gun.

"Yeah, long, complicated....nightmare inducing. Left me with knowing how to use a gun pretty well too. Also puzzles....so many puzzles."

You kind of had to be good at both in Silent Hill.

"Yeah, I haven't had to use one in years. Not since...well, not for a while. But when I got here, I was wishing the same thing. Though I thought they were the sort of monsters that I'd seen in that town then as well."

"I was lucky in that regard. The study of the strange and the extra-human is my specialty, so I was never particularly afraid."

Not that he's ever particularly afraid in general. It's one of his strengths and faults, the ability to walk right up to a dangerous creature from the nether-realms and try to find a hand to shake.

"Or perhaps I'm just very familiar with what it looks like when something is trying to kill me, so I know when I ought to be worried."

Probably a little of column A and a little of column B.

"Yeah...I was just an author. Watching a town turn into a place of nightmarish horror left me pretty terrified. I still hate sirens and fog."

Harry meanwhile is just a normal person who adopted half a persons soul in the form of a baby and got the bonus prize of a cult attached.

"But you get good at pushing aside that fear when your kid gets taken by the town."

Open party log, as promised!

nerd party

NERD PARTY NERD PARTY

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