victory_road | 003

Entry tags:

003 - Log

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.

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[Hank pushes the door open with his foot and holds it, shaking his coat of even before coming in. He looks around to see if, like every other place, they allow Pokemon out of their balls. Surprise surprise, they do.]

[Still, Tubbs is a little large for indoor adventures now, so he lets out Hunter. He goes to find a stool and then puts his hands down, palms up, for Hunter to sniff.]

Come here, boy.

[His breath is hot. He'll be warmed up in no time just from scratching his muzzle.]

Have you got any of the badges yet? I was thinking of eventually going for them. I'm not really in a rush, but uh... You know. Thought it might help.

[Boone sits on a stool and shakes his head, sending out his Salazzle. She's thankfully forgiven Boone for depriving her of her harem, and slithers her way up onto his lap so that he can pet her. She's very warm.]

Was gonna try, but I got distracted. Besides, when you're travelling with a group you don't wanna be the one holding everyone up so that you can train for a gym battle. Not that Pointy would have a lot of trouble anymore, but... that's part of the problem too. I'm not sending a level 100 pokemon out against a level 30-something and calling it a victory when he stomps all over them.

[Sure, he trained Pointy up from level 5 by himself. And back home, he'd play dirty if he had to. But in a place like this? It wouldn't feel right. Which would mean catching new pokemon and training those up, instead. It's not like he has better things to do, but it does seem like a lot of effort for something he doesn't really care too much about.]

Yeah. Good point. It wouldn't be. [Especially when so many of the trainers out there, and gym leaders, are just kids.]

I have a hard enough time battling the average battles. Not that they're tough. But here's this fuckin' twelve year old chucking out his Paras that weeds his garden on weekends and isn't some pro pokemon. I'm just thinkin' "Shit".

I've actually thrown battles before. [Sure he looks like a chump and it costs him a little money, but if the kid isn't a punk and just seems to want to have a good time.] They can probably tell. Kids are smart. Hey, can I get a whiskey? [He finally gets the bartender's permission, leaving Hunter's muzzle alone.]

Yeah. Unfortunately it's kinda hard to throw a battle when you're 60 levels higher than your opponent. Even if I screwed up and Pointy held back, it wouldn't be a fair fight. Maybe I wouldn't care so much, but if it's just a kid it feels bad when you just take out their pokemon in one hit.

[He shrugs.]

And... Pointy is pretty proud, too. He takes losing hard. Always has. He always puts everything he has into a battle, even the easy ones. Think he likes showing off.

[He can't help but pat Pointy on the neck, though.]

I can see that. [He watches the Drapion look proud of himself.] I guess it's a good reminder to keep a couple of weaker pokemon on hand usually. Most of the time I just want to see what they end up looking like, anyway. I don't need them to be the best fighters.

[He pauses, though.]

My partner does, but... that's because he takes failure pretty hard. His from a situation where his whole life depended on it. He's been favoring a lot of electric types actually, so if you have any recommendations there...

Electric types? Ampharos is pretty good. Got a Joltik too, but I haven't used her much. And I've got a couple of Luxio, but I've never used them, either.

[He pauses, having a sudden idea.]

Hey... you're a breeder, right? The Luxio are a male and female pair. Thing is, I'm never gonna use them. The person who left them behind would probably want them to go to a good home. If you want them, you can have them.

Yeah. I could take 'em. I know Connor'd spoil 'em rotten. I know the second we're not in a hotel anymore he'll have them out all the time.

[There's pointed fondness in his voice, speaking of someone he cares very deeply about. He's still proud of that empathy. Glad to see it in him.]

Sure. You want anything in exchange? [Not that he has a lot. But maybe he has something.] Thinking of breeding my Arcanine and Torracat and they'll probably come out pretty good.

Good. It's better than being stuck in the PC all the time, right?

[He shrugs a little.]

Those are fire types, yeah? I'll take an egg, if you don't mind. More likely to use whatever hatches from it.

Yeah. I mean... [He ends up turning his whiskey, looking into it.] I guess I'm going to be looking into getting a house eventually. And from what I can tell it means it wouldn't have to be in the PC. It could just wander around.

[He still sounds very uncertain about the prospect, something he's very worried about showing in front of Connor. It seems like he takes his inability to keep Hank happy as another personal failure, a condemnation. But he is at least certain he'd like to have a home base and somewhere for these things to run around.]

Yeah, that's what people do when they get a house. Just let their pokemon wander. Would be nice to be able to do that.

[Boone has mostly been okay with living in hotels, but the idea of having his pokemon free to do whatever they like is nice.]

Where are you thinking of settling down?

I dunno yet. Maybe here. I like cities. [He takes a sharp drink of the whiskey, wincing as he swallows it.]

It's just sorta hard to think about when you spent what, fifteen something years paying off a mortgage to one house and it's like, "Well now you gotta do everything all over again in fantasy land." [He can't even rightfully consider improving the life he's got.]

I want 'em to be able to go wherever, though. I want a bed that's mine to sleep in. So I get to do it all over again. [Lord knows he might be here until he's sixty some, anyway, according to the people here.]

Seems like staying here would be pretty convenient, yeah. Lot of shops, lot of people.

[He frowns.]

Not sure I like that last part, but it's not that much of a problem.

[Boone shrugs, Salazzle getting comfortable in his arms.]

I lived in a motel back home. Got to stay for free because I was a town guard. Went to hell in the end when it turned out the mayor was willing to sell people into slavery just because she didn't like them, though.

[After a pause, and a sip of his whiskey, he adds-]

She got what was coming to her.

She was fuckin' selling people? Holy shit.

[Though it occurs to him then that he doesn't know that much about Boone, or what kind of place he comes from, and that human trafficking might be on a whole different level there. Not everyone comes from some average cell-phone having hellhole. They have their own unique hellholes.]

[Hunter puts his head in Hank's lap, sitting beside him and looking up at him with eyebrow-dotted and excessively loving eyes. Monster has this dog thing down pat.]

Sounds like the bitch deserved it. [Not the best cop thing to say, but fuck. Sometimes people just do.] I probably would have done something myself, knowing that. [But he doesn't know the level of personal stakes Boone had in it.]

Yeah.

[He looks down at Hunter, but he can't muster a smile with the topic of conversation going on.]

World's better off without her, far as I'm concerned.

[It'll never bring Carla back, but he likes to think Carla would be pleased to know that the woman who sold her is dead.]

What happened?

[Hank realizes it might be a personal question. But he raises a finger as he takes another drink. Give him a moment.]

I used to be a cop back home. I always hated finding out someone had been getting away with something for a while, especially people in power and good at hiding behind a friendly political face. Pissed me right the hell off.

So I was just wondering what got her caught, finally.

[It seems obvious that Boone knew some of the people personally. He's wearing it like an open wound. And some of those people probably never came back.]

[Boone sighs, wondering how much to tell him. But... well, he seems like the kind of guy who won't go talking about it to everyone else. And he doesn't have to tell him everything.]

It was my wife she sold.

[He takes a drink, frowning.]

Carla didn't like Novac. She was used to Vegas, and Novac... it was just a small town with not much to do in it. Carla was pretty vocal about how much she hated it there, and the mayor didn't like it. So she sold her to the Legion. They came in at night, while I was on duty. Not sure what happened, but by the time I caught up to her, she was dead.

[It's a lot of talking for him, but he continues.]

About a year later, a woman came to town. Didn't trust anyone in town after what had happened, so seeing a stranger show up I asked her to help me. Was a long shot, but it paid off. She found the bill of sale in the mayor's safe. Did what I had to after that.

[Okay, so. Either the Legion is some sort of Cartel he's never heard of working out of Nevada that deals in human trafficking, or there are Great Swaths of story he doesn't know here. And he doesn't want to backtrack the man from an emotional admission through bland technicalities. He'll just figure out what all that means later.]

Another whiskey! [Hank pre-emptively calls for a glass for them both, before considering.]

I'm a cop back home. Police officer law keeper type of person. Knowing that, though... I probably would have covered up for you. Someone like that shouldn't have gotten away with it. [Hank knows he was a good cop, but he wasn't always the best cop. Sometimes things needed to play out their own way.]

My son was hurt in a crash and died in the hospital and I was always frustrated that I never could... I don't know. Get some closure over it. Can't even shoot cars to make sure they'll never hurt anyone else. Couldn't... stop androids from existing to fuck up surgeries. Couldn't keep doctors from getting high and being unable to perform. I spent a good portion of my career trying to fight drugs, too....

[Hank says wryly.] Your way at least kept her from fucking up anyone else's life.

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003 - Log

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