Hank Anderson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sociallychallenged) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
victory_road2018-11-17 07:33 pm
sociallychallenged) wrote in victory_road2018-11-17 07:33 pm
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.
Where: Goldenrod
When: During November
Summary: A few log openings
Rating: L for language
[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.]
[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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[He feels normal for the first time since he arrived here. No human needs like sleeping or eating, no headaches from staying up too late, and he can communicate better than ever with Crockett. He’s pleased to be an android again.]
I wish I could remain this way, but since I can’t I’ll just have to make the most of it while I can.
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I'm going to get some normal clothes on. We should get out there and have a look around. As much as I just want to crawl into bed and sleep the whole thing through.
[He starts grabbing some clothes out of his pack, and makes a grand effort to dodge Crockett because he doesn't want to bang his head as he heads to the bathroom (lord as his witness he never feels so dirty as he does if caught changing clothes by a pokemon).]
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Shall we go, then?
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[He notes Connor's already stronger. Maybe that'll work out for the better, especially in an emergency. Even if most emergencies at the moment involve confusion and accidents rather than anything nefarious.]
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Is there anywhere you wanted to go in particular?
[He pauses as he feels something brushing his leg. There’s a Lickitung there, not that Connor knows exactly what it is yet, and it’s tugging on his pants leg.]
Oh. Are you lost?
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[He suddenly understands why it's a fighting move, because as he's hit with it he's hit with a very real, nigh on paralyzing sense of disgust and he staggers back. This ends with three of the dogs barking at it, but refraining from attacking until their owner says otherwise.]
Why me!?
[He says accusingly. Karma says Connor should have been subject to that.]
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Are you looking for your trainer?
[The pokemon responds with a “liiiiick”, nestling itself in Connor’s arms and giving Hank a beady eyed stare.]
Can you scan him with your gear, Hank?
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[He looks up Lickitung.] "Lickitung. Being licked by its long, saliva-covered tongue leaves a tingling sensation. Extending its tongue retracts its tail." [Hank makes a face. Sure. He doesn't want to know how that works.]
If it's someone else's Pokemon then we oughta see the cops and take it to the Pokecenter. I've been on top of all the recent disappearances up until this shit. No one's lost a the that.
[Yes, he does say a 'the that'.]
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[The pokemon lolls its tongue out as Connor sets it back down, and starts to clean itself.]
Where’s your trainer?
[He crouches down to look at the Lickitung. It just waddles over and clings to his leg again.]
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[Hank is still with a faintly dark spot on his pants leg from where he got licked. He puts his hands on his head and tries to think about what the hell they need to do..]
Looks like he's attached to you for now. Might as well take him for a while. Her. Him? I can't fuckin' tell.
[He has to get out the Pokegear again and check.] ...Him. It probably is a fuck of a long way from home, trainer or no. I've not seen one around here before and this says they're only native to Route 44 and up a fucking mountain in the Safari Zone.
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[He pulls out a pokeball and tosses it as the Lickitung. It wobbles once before clicking shut.]
He didn’t have a trainer.
[Connor watches the ball disappear to the PC.]
I suppose he’s mine now. What should I name him?
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Alright um.... watch out for the big huge legendary things 'cause I am pretty sure we don't got a chance in dealing with those.
[They're not really the big guns of Monsterland. They're just a couple of guys wanting to help. He's just going to look out for trainerless Pokemon that look like they might have gotten thrashed and lost kids.]
We've already dealt with a hell of a lot worse chaos than this. [Siege on Detroit, for one, which feels like a fucking lifetime ago.] But for here this is pretty out of the ordinary. [And god help him, Hank could just go to bed but honestly he doesn't want to admit that it's nice to feel genuinely useful for three goddamn seconds again. He thought he was atrophying.]
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[He hums to himself, though.]
Gene Simmons. I suppose it makes as much sense as Guy Fieri.
[Well, time to be useful, anyway.]
I’ll be sure to look out for the legendary pokemon.
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You know what? Since you've got extra observation abilities, you lead the way.
[He gestures for Connor to go ahead of him. Once again, he's glad to follow. And Connor's been sitting on his skills for far too long.]
Just warn me before you start sticking things in your mouth so I can look away. [And remind him to use mouthwash later.]
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[He starts walking in a random direction.]
But don't worry, I'm sure we can get through this without me putting anything in my mouth.
[Maybe.]
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[Hank admits, realizing he'd been inadvertently hard on him for the sake of a really dumb joke argument. He follows after him.] I'm sorry. Let's just go. [He huffs, gesturing loosely.]
[Why couldn't they have made it some on-off function of his fingers, though? Why old dried goo on his fuckin' tongue. Kamski is some special kind of pervert, he doesn't doubt it.]
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[He slows down so he can take Hank's hand, and gives him an easy smile.]
What should we be looking out for? Lost pokemon? Ones that are actually lost and not just looking for a home, that is.
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[And make some pretty complex moral decisions. The end result he's mostly approved of, and he squeezes the offered hand for it.]
But yeah, that's what I usually do. That and find missing kids out along the routes, but I'm gonna bet the Jennies will be on that first.
[Hunter nudges Connor's elbow with his mean looking face, a friendly nuzzle as he wants some approval and attention.]
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[He pets Hunter with his other hand, looking back out at the streets.]
We can go to the nearest route, then. I-
[He stops as his foot nudges something, and he squints down at the Meltan that he nearly booted across the road.]
Oh. What's this?
[He's never seen it before, but it's obviously a pokemon.]
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[And...]
[Nothing?]
....It's... Not anything in here. I don't know what the fuck that is. A confused Ditto?
[Hunter goes over to it and helpfully picks it up in his mouth gently. Except its lower teeth are a little through his hexnut head and that just makes his helpfulness its own brand of disturbing.]
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[He leans in to squint at it as Hunter picks it up, and it wiggles as it dangles off the ground. Connor holds his hands out to take it, and the Meltan pauses for a moment before slowly making a beeline up Connor's arm.]
Surely a confused Ditto would still show up in the pokedex as a Ditto?
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[Hank shrugs. He's not a Pokemon scientist. He'll have to either ask the old man or the kid if they know what that thing is.] Or the PokeGear is glitching. [One thing is as likely as anything else.]
Alright. So I guess if we find more we'll know for sure.
[He reaches out to touch its wierd bolt head.] Huh.
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An alien pokemon could be possible, I suppose.
[He has a feeling almost anything is possible here, especially now.]
Shall we keep going?
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[Hank follows along dutifully, letting Connor take the lead with his wierd new whatsit hanging onto his arm.]
Oh I uh... There was a little girl. Newt. You know the one. She uh... well she wanted to take on some of the gyms and has trouble with bug Pokemon. So I offered to help train her up some butterfly looking ones and trade them to her since she seems alright with those. Like the Butterfree and Beautifly- is that the name? -Yeah that one. I was thinking that after the world falling apart and if we don't get Tornadoed back to Detroit we could look into doing that.
[Hank can't leave well enough alone around scared kids.]
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[She had been a nice girl.]
I'll help train up some pokemon for her. I'd offer to have her meet Charlotte too, because of how friendly she is, but if she has trouble with bug pokemon she probably wouldn't appreciate a giant spider.
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