003 - Log

[sociallychallenged]

Who: Hank Anderson | OTA
Where: Goldenrod
When: During November
Summary: A few log openings
Rating: L for language

Nov 12th - OTA

[It's shaping up to be a cold, rainy week. Honestly, it feels a little like home, and it gives him something to do because fuck knows he hates sitting around all the fuckin' time with his thumb up his ass. And this place is pretty good for giving him absolutely nothing. He's been working as a janitor in every town they've stayed at, and his most exciting event of the week is when he has to scrape gum from the bottom of a table. Honestly he didn't quite feel so fucking old until the millionth time he had to dislodge a cemented hard candy from a surface, muttering, 'damned kids'. A sentiment he never thought he'd feel (even if it's just passing petty annoyance with the average heathen children of perfect land, and he still very much misses being a father).]

[On a day off like this he can take his dogs and go out and investigate the area around the town. He can check the 'missing' posters at the Pokecenter or ads in the paper. He can make a list of "missing eevee, pink bow around neck" or "cranky joltik, answers to frank, plz contact if seen" and contact their owners to find something that'll smell like their lost charges. Then he can use his three main team members to go looking for the missing pokemon.]

[Today's been a good day. He's not bothered with an umbrella himself, because he's not a fucking wicked witch and he's not going to melt, but he is carrying a basket with someone's lost, wet Jigglypuff in it, dripping from having been wandering freely, lost from its owner, with a poncho over it and looking about as cranky as a wet ball of pink fluff can.]

[Hank carries it into the Pokecenter to drop it off, intending to go get some fucking booze after this because he is going to need it. His pants are spattered in that unique sort of City Mud that's going to be a pain in the ass to wash out, and he puts the basket up onto the nearest counter and turns it over to the nearest deja-vu-faced cute girl along with the owner's info.]

Watch out. He's in a mood. [Hank warns her before heading out. Right. Booze, and pick up a newspaper to look for more missing ads. Rather than make them endure the rain longer than necessary, his usual crew of dogs are all in their balls. Sure, he'll protect his buddies from the water, but not himself (other than his leather overcoat and some thick clothes) despite it being cold. He'll just go about his errands looking like a wet Stoutland, thanks.]

Nov 23rd - Closed to Connor

There is some bullshit going on.

[Hank's voice is booming loudly as he tears his way back to his and Connor's shared hotel room. There's been some fucked up stuff already. People just... fucking appearing in the street. Pokemon that don't belong here chasing around ones that do. People going missing. The Jennies are taxed and Hank's done what he can to help for a man that has no fucking clue what anything is and where.]

[He has seen one of the giant legendary fucking huge bird things today, and that's something he didn't want in his life.]

Have you seen any of this, Connor?

[He goes to the window to peek out the blinds.]

I thought my fucking shadow fucking off without my permission was weird enough. Now we've got whatever this is.

Comments

12

[thedifferencebetween]

[Back in Goldenrod again.]

[The city's nothing great, but Jack's been getting sick of holing up along in his dead boyfriend's place. Sure, technically both places had been 'theirs', the Goldenrod house had always been more his and the Blackthorn place more Felix's. Where else is he gonna go? Hotel living sucks.]

[Unlike some other, more considerate Pokemon trainers, Jack's own dogs are out and dealing with the weather - at least his impressive Houndoom and his orange Furfrou, the rest are back at the house. It's too fucking wet to be out, but sometimes a man has to go walking in the rain for priorities. Like cigarettes.]

[And hey, he's not even the only poor bastard stuck out in the rain! Jack intended to ignore the other wet-braver...until Junior the Furfrou decided he simply had to run over and say hello. Making excited, splashing circles around the other man and a great deal of noise.]

Oh for the love of...Junior! Get your ass back here.... gonna put you on a leash if this keeps up!

[sociallychallenged]

[At least the city is a city. Not that there's a lot wrong with Ma and Pa Kettle General Store towns, but the sound of transit systems and lit sidewalks at night fills him with a sense of comfortable familiarity. And it has him in a pretty decent mood when the Poodlemonster comes prancing over.]

Heeeyyy... Sounds like you're not listening to your dad. [Hank says, clinically unable to stop himself from talking to dog Pokemon like they're normal dogs. But still, he scruffs the Furfrou's ears with a lop-sided smile. But briefly, so he doesn't distract him from being called back for too long.]

[He rights himself and puts his hands in his pockets, looking over at Jack.] Nice looking dogs. Houndoom looks like it could pull a small wagon. [Hunter has the same sort of look, and permenant resting bitch face to boot.]

[thedifferencebetween]

Nope, nope, I am only 'dad' to my human children. And anyway, that one's my currently MIA other half's, so he'd be 'dad'. The damn thing's named 'Felix Junior'.

[Except Jack only calls him 'Junior' because otherwise it's weird since Felix vanished. Which Jack is realizing he's still not over. He misses that guy. A lot.]

[But hey, someone to talk to. That isn't a teenager or twenty mumble something.]

But hey, thanks, this is Havoc! He's kind of a jerk, don't put your hand around his face or anything, but he's a beast in battles. Got a bunch more at home, one of my girls has a ton of dog pokemon and keeps giving me eggs and puppies.

[sociallychallenged]

Yeah. Luckily mine haven't churned any eggs out yet. ['Luckily' says the breeder. But honestly, everyone has plenty of dogs and he's not been as good about buying into the Pokemon lifestyle as his partner. The benefits of being a cynical, spectacular stick in the mud.] They might eventually but we've been busy with other stuff.

[Though it does make him a little sad. He misses his human kid a lot. Still tries not to get his hopes up about him showing up one day, though at the mention he does let the hateful want flick through for half a second. This place is shit for helping a man let go.]

Got my boyfriend an Electrike for his first gym victory so I'm hoping that works out for him.

[It's a slip. Usually he just calls him his partner, because that sounds fine enough.]

[thedifferencebetween]

Oh yeah? That's a cool Pokemon. We never got each other cool Pokemon, but we gave gifts for maximum hilarity, so...

[Felix and Jack approached gift giving the same way they approached shitposting.]

Oh wait, I got an Ursaring for him to box once. Still got the Ursaring! Big ass bear thing, pretty neat. Hey, look, I'm happy to chat with somebody roughly my own age, but maybe we move out of the rain? You like bars? Cause I love bars.

[sociallychallenged]

He's still working on a sense of humor. [He says as if Connor doesn't fucking sass the hell out of him and threaten him with birds.]

[Hank's been out in this all day, to the point he's nearly immune to it. Not to mention rain about this time of year near his home is similarly cold. But he is at least smart enough (barely) to be very open to the suggestion of getting out of this frigid bullshit.]

Right. Point the direction of a good one 'cause I could use a drink. [Not that he can drink to his preferred level of drunkeness, but he can warm himself up.] I still don't know where half the good shit is yet. ['Good shit' meaning 'meant for people older than ten' and also of some mediocre quality.]

[thedifferencebetween]

Oh, you are in luck! I know all the good places.

[And they know him. And how he throws money around. They like Jack. They like his fat wallet and his high tolerance for alcohol.]

Can't survive in this world without that. I mean...it's not a bad place. It's not. It's nice, it's pretty, but... little monotonous, little mind-numbing sometimes.

[For a variety of reasons. Jack heads off in the direction of the nearest of his favorite watering holes, his dogs padding along with him.]

I'm Jack. Handsome Jack.

12

[thumbsdown]

[Boone doesn't like the rain, but he doesn't care enough to put up an umbrella. His Drapion walks beside him, wearing a bright yellow sweater with a Pikachu on it, and as he passes Hank the pokemon roars happily and approaches him. Clearly he recognises Hank from the time Boone accidentally called him. Boone follows Pointy and gives Hank a tired wave. Looks like someone else is in need of booze, too.]

Hey. Nice day, huh?

[Says the wet guy with a sad-looking cigarette dripping water from it. He seems to notice as he goes to smoke it that it's pointless, and he grunts and tosses it into the bin beside them.]

[sociallychallenged]

[Hank hooks his thumbs in his belt as he's reading a sign, looking blandly over some info for 'Pokemon dance troupe training' as he hears Boone speak. And he looks over to see a dripping Drapion and Boone looking like a wet dishrag.]

Yeah, if you're a Seel. Let's go talk somewhere where you can wring out your pack of cigarettes.

They let people smoke in bars here? [Shit. It's been a few dogs ages since many of those have been around.]

[thumbsdown]

Good idea. Sick of this.

[He gestures to the sky, and Pointy waggles his claws in agreement.]

Yeah, but they have special areas for smokers. Hell if I know why, the smoke is still gonna waft into the other damn area.

[sociallychallenged]

Well, it's worse for other people than it is the smoker so they try to keep them as far as possible. But I don't know if people here have magically healing lungs or what the fuck ever. [It seems like their livers come with a certain amount of enhanced 'dealing with alcohol skill'. But it's an excuse to sit somewhere and chat.]

You know this town pretty well? [City, actually. Not a Detroit level city, but still a city.] Because if you got a good suggestion, lead the way.

[thumbsdown]

Still. You'd think maybe they'd have walls between the two areas or something to stop the smoke, right?

[He shakes his head.]

No. Only got here a little while ago. Found a pretty good bar, though.

[Because of course he did, it was one of the first things he beelined for after getting to the city. He starts walking, with Pointy falling into step beside him.]

[sociallychallenged]

[That's good enough for him. He could stand some whiskey because then he can actually trick himself into thinking his fingers aren't as chilly as they are and that he doesn't have unfriendly aching in his ankles because of the fucking weather. Thanks, rain.]

[He follows along as well, looking at the big Drapion. He's been really halfassing being a breeder; while Connor's done what he can't to excel as a Pokemon trainer, Hank is a real underachiever that's just been vaguely prepping for maybe one day having eggs. But he's reminded that he does have that female Tentacool.]

Hey uh... I think your Drapion is in the same egg group as my Tentacool? Hold on, I need to look it up and double check.

[He pulls up his pokegear in wet fingers, the screen getting littered with tiny droplets as he presses in numbers and letters for a search.]

If you ever want to breed him, she's been available and I think he can pass on some unique shit. Tentacool passes on screech. It's something, anyway. [The question isn't hugely pressing, just a thought while it's on his mind, and he immediately puts the Pokegear away again.]

16th

[songoftime]

[Link has decided to stay in Goldenrod for a little while. There's so much to see here -- And it's a good chance to take the time to train up his Pokémon, and to earn some money while he's at it. Which is how he ended up with all these newspapers in this little red wagon. It's a lot like having the Postman's Hat, but with delivering newspapers instead of letters.

Link knows he could have one of his Pokémon pull the wagon, but he'd rather do it himself. Still, his Honedge floats along next him like an ever-watchful guardian, and his Espurr rides along in the wagon, napping on top of the papers.

He slows down as he hears a familiar voice ahead of him on the sidewalk. Link blinks a couple of times, then continues forward, seeking the source.]

[sociallychallenged]

[Hank actually starts whistling to himself as he looks at a display of menus in a window, leaning in with a wrinkled nose as he dredges up the guitar riff from an old Strapping Young Lad song from back in the dayest of days.]

[And then there's that blond kid from before. The one with the goddesses.]

[Hank turns to him, heading over to the kid.]

Hey, are you just doing deliveries or do you sell 'em along your route, too? [Because he could stand to take a look in that classified section. And holy hell, this kid managed to go the whole nine yards with an actual little red wagon. He can appreciate the Norman Rockwell meets Tolkein aesthetic happening here, gotta admit.]

[songoftime]

[Oh. Now that Link hears him more properly, he can place the voice. It's the man who told him about elevators. Wow, he's tall.]

I sell them, [he confirms.] Would you like one?

[His Honedge looks Hank up and down skeptically, as if she's measuring him up.]

[sociallychallenged]

Yeah, I need one. [He pulls out his wallet, and starts leafing through some pokemoney. Honestly he'd gotten used to all of his transactions being done over cards back in Detroit. Now the backslide to paper money is almost pleasant.]

What's the damage?

[And then, he realizes Link might not know the phrase.]

How much are they, I mean.

[songoftime]

[Link does indeed stare at him blankly until he explains, but even then, he's still confused. Damage? That's a weird thing to say about money.]

Five Pokédollars. [He turns to his Espurr, who seems unwilling to move, so he grabs a corner of a newspaper and tugs. The cat-like creature grunts grumpily as it begins to move out from underneath him.]

[sociallychallenged]

[He chuckles at the Espurr being unwilling to move at first.] Mine just recently evolved. It gets sick of the dogs.

[And then he offers the kid the money.]

Which ones have you gotten so far? Covered most of your bases?

23

[plasticasshole]

[Connor had woken abruptly, and found himself literally unable to get back to sleep. He soon figured out why, though. And he's in the process of scanning Crockett with his head tilted in interest when Hank comes in through the door.]

No, I haven't. I've been inside. Hank, I'm an android again.

[He walks over to Hank, holding out his hand. The skin disappears, showing the plastic underneath.]

I was told this might happen, I just didn't know it would be this soon.

[sociallychallenged]

[He looks away from the window.] Huh? What did you- [Hank's voice is, by default, the personification of the word 'manly'. So the sound that comes out of him isn't high pitched, it can't be, but it is almost what one could call a shriek because he'd barely caught the 'I'm an android' before Connor started fucking peeling his skin back.]

I need to sit down. [He puts his face in his hands. Deep breath. Okay, we're good.]

Okay, right. Let me see again. Sorry, my brain isn't android fast brain. My brain is 'I've seen the world being bullshit outside all morning after shitty work hours' slow brain.

[He reaches out to take his hands, sitting there still in his fucking janitor onesie.]

[plasticasshole]

[Connor just raises his eyebrows slightly at the reaction, but nods after the explanation.]

Sorry.

[He kind of forgot that normal people don't just have their skin ready to dissolve off their chassis at any given time. He lets Hank take his hands, wiggling his plastic fingers.]

What is happening out there?

[sociallychallenged]

Giant birds happened. [That was the important one.] We're talking fucking... flying behemoth, not just ostrich size. There's a lot of shit that doesn't make sense. As much as anything here ever does make sense. People appeared and disappeared. Soooo I figured I would go home and check on you.

[He looks at Connor's hands, then abruptly grins up at him.] So you can scan? Do the normal stuff again? [He rubs his thumbs along his smooth palms, like he's trying to memorize how it feels in case it goes away in another twenty minutes. Connor never let him touch him like this back before they came here, so he's taking advantage of the moment.]

[plasticasshole]

[Connor smiles a little at the mention of a giant bird.]

I wish I had gotten to see it, too. But yes, I can.

[He seems pleased with that, even if he knows it's only going to last a day or two.]

Do you feel any different?

[He's curious to know if people without powers feel strange right now, too.]

[sociallychallenged]

I'm sure the big fucker's still out there somewhere. I feel a little groggy and confused, but that might be the situation and the fact I got off an eight-hour work shift and immediately started trying to help find lost people or confused Pokemon.

Probably should have come home and checked on you first.

[He does sound a little guilty about that, he had just assumed 'Connor will be fine' and was planning to go to the Pokecenter to try and find him if he hadn't been at home.]

[He finally gives Connor back his hands, even if he seems a little reluctant to do so.]

What about you? I mean, the whole flesh-to-plastic bit is obvious, but how are you feeling mentally? [He doesn't want to ask about his emotions, but he also really, really wants to know.]