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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Uh, that's way beyond you. I'm on a space station at the frontier of known space. We have instant teleportation and the tech to create matter. We're so far removed from the planet humans came from that we don't even really remember it.

[Jack never resists an opportunity to brag about all the amazing technology he has.]

And no, we don't have androids. Because once we started making AI on that level we realized 'hey, we're basically making people and that's fucked up and they have existential crises and it's not cool for anybody'. So we try and avoid that kind of thing happening, it opens up all these weird moral and spiritual and legal issues and....

[Ugh. Thinking on his own experience with it, Jack can only shake his head. He learned his lesson when it came to AIs. Mindless robots are way better. Make'em so they can't develop any sense of self at all and it just fixes so many problems. Plus, guilt free canon fodder!]

Just because we can make people out of programming and codes doesn't mean we should.

Yeah, that sounds about right.

[Even if it took him a while to come around to thinking of them as people and not just people-shaped-things honed to manipulate him and waste his time.]

So you didn't roll over that hump but made it to space. Got it. [He taps his finger along the edge of the glass.]

Sorry, my partner [this time he calls him that] is -was- an android before we showed up here and pretty much in that political hellboat. So your society probably dodged that bullet... Which is hard when life is firing a machine gun at you but at least one missed. [He snorts at his own cynical joke and takes a drink.]

[The snort is returned.]

Yeah, we got enough problems with inter-dimensional aliens and cannibals and everybody outside of civilization trying to kill everybody inside civilization. So we make robots. Good old fashioned, limited mental processes robots. I mean...yeah, sure ya get some mad scientists running around who whip up something else, but...

[Jack shrugs. There's no real laws about it, and he doesn't care enough to have ever looked into statistics, he just knows that there's some human-level consciousness technological creations out there.]

I've got a strict policy, I don't tolerate that with my scientists.

[When he knows it's going on, anyway. Friggin Nakayama...]

But hey, I guess ya don't gotta deal with that crap anymore at least. Nobody here gives a shit, there's all kinds of not-human originally people running around.

Yeah. Make everyone the same value of bog standard boring human asshole and have other things fight their fights for them and you make a real peaceful kind of place, right?

[He looks down into his pocket after that cynical statement and says to the pokemon inside-] No offense.

[The response is a tiny-] Flo.

[Hank shrugs and tends to his glass.]

Yeah, sounds like you caught plenty of other bullets. Been a good... fuckin' ten years since I saw a cannibal. [All kinds of cases pass by your desk when you're on homicide but honestly, cannibals happen less than what one would expect.] No aliens, thankfully. You've got scientists back home? Like your own business or what?

Well, that's the idea, yeah! Who's gonna argue against substituting replaceable guns on legs for actual human beings in battle situations? I've been shot, it sucks!

[And with people...ugh, the insurance payouts are insane. Plus employees die constantly due to accidents or stupidity already. Nope, robots. Jack is all about robots.]

And I am president of the largest galactic empire in my galaxy - Hyperion. Or...was? I dunno, I been here for years now and here yeah, I just got a business. I'm still decently rich by most people's standards, just...nowhere near what I was. I only got two houses. And I gotta work my ass off to make money. Even with all my damn money shitting cats!

I don't know. Seems like a cheap way of working it all out. "Look, now there aren't any differences because we took them away.."

[He probably would be less harsh on the idea, just sort of a bland sort of cynical, if he hadn't been investigating androids desperately wanting to be treated as equal. But it's one of the reasons Connor like the place; no one treats him like an android.]

[But like he's said before, this place seems to be good for younger people and the people that have never gotten to be normal. He bitches, but he'd rather them have it if they want it.]

Shit. So you went from crazy ass important to this? It's hard enough to leave a house you've paid off so it'd be hell leaving a whole fucking company. [And it's hard missing his dog, his real dog.] Everyone says you just go home, go back to the stuff as it was so you didn't miss anything. That happened to you, yet?

....You really think humanity works that way? Pshhh, no, it just cuts down on actual human death and limb loss. People are still people. And people for the most part are assholes. I'd still rather have them working for me and being productive than dying 'cause some crazy planet side cultists or whatever get a bug up their ass.

[Jack lifts his hand to gesture for another round. He hopes his new buddy likes to drink.]

Yeah, yeah I did. Had a whole empire. Worked my way up from nothing to get it, too. And no, I've just been here. But that's what they say happens. Not everybody comes back. In fact, I hardly know anybody who's gone and come back.

You'd be really fucking surprised.... [Hank says with a genuine sort of... almost reverence, at the very least, respect. And ends up gesturing in the air as he recounts the story.]

So okay, there were androids back home that started going 'deviant', meaning they started thinking and feeling almost like humans and not just people shaped cell phones. One of them was named 'Markus' and this fuckin' guy, somehow, managed to snag android freedom and rights. He was able to prove himself and all the people like him were just plastic guys wanting to be free and not fuckin' personal computers with thumbs.

My partner was specifically designed to hunt down deviants, and he even managed to convince him. [Connor says that Hank had a big part in it, but he knows the final influence wouldn't have happened without Markus.] Like it took a hell of a lot of work, but you gotta admit after being a part of something like that? Watching a whole population get over themselves? ...It's nice and shiny but it feels a little cheap here, sometimes.

[And yeah, after remembering that hellstorm, he could use a second round. Nothing like memories of being taken hostage to wet the whistle. To its credit, though, that hellstorm gave him faith in humanity and the will to live again.]

[But now that he's thinking about it, and hearing what Jack built.]

God, I don't wanna go through the process of house shopping again. So you legit built your company from the ground up? What does it do?

...That's a fucked up story. Like...all of that. See! See, that's the thing! You start making mechanical people...you gotta acknowledge that they're people. And you sure as shit don't build more mechanical people to hunt those down. This is why I don't allow any kind of AI tech in robots! Once they start getting self aware and achieving independent consciousness...now you've got lives you're responsible for.

[Jack sighs. He's focusing on one specific part of the story here.]

Eh, dig a little bit into local legends and shit, you'll find some weird dark stuff. Plus apparently the world broke one time? I wasn't here for that. I saw a bunch of the damage though! Holy shit, Goldenrod was a mess. It's how I got a nice house cheap, the neighborhood was half crater at the time. All fixed up now, though.

[Not that it matters much, the house is basically empty. Just him now. God damn, his life is sad. How did this happen?]

Huh? Oh, no, no, Hyperion was around before I came along. I signed on with'em when I was practically a kid, worked my way up from an entry level position to running the whole show. I took a good company and made it great. We do pretty much everything in the high tech arena. Robots, obviously, lotta robots. Guns - fancy designer stuff. Security systems, luxury items, cars, spaceships, appliances... Hyperion makes everything to make your life comfortable, safe, and easy!

Oh yeah, all that was fucked up. I'm pretty sure that company is done for after that.

[He hopes so, anyway. It might be too much hope, but he doesn't want to have to perpetually fight to keep his android boyfriend from being recalled... Jesus, he's not his boyfriend back home, is he? He's just this weird fuckin' plastic prick that's going to stay with him.]

[That said, even if they weren't what they were, even if they were only acquaintances, knowing the full breadth of Connor's story and personality, Hank wouldn't let them take him. It's not in his moral code. He'd happily punch another Fed if necessary.]

My own fucking Pokegear confuses me half the time. At least someone here is good with technology. I'm assuming you are and not just the paycheck guy. [He downs half his glass with another searing swallow, though it's less sharp this time. It's already done the hard part and numbed him up enough that his face feels little warm. Now he's curious about that supposed dark history (of course he is, he can't leave nice enough alone). But something else does get his attention.] How are housing and rent prices now? Nice neighborhood?

They outta be.

[Jack's feelings aren't that strong, he'll just take any advantage to spit on a company that's not his.]

Oh yeah, I'm a bit of a computer genius. Had a knack for it, even as a kid. Coding and programming's my specialty, but I have a hand in a lot of the design work for robotics and weaponry. And I've invented some pretty cool shit! You need a guy to design you a one of a kind space laser, I'm the guy.

[Despite the fact that none of this has been actually relevant in years, Jack talks like he's still leading Hyperion. It's just easier for him that way.]

Now? Uh...depends, I guess? On what you're looking for and where. Like I got a big house, it was for a family, but...eh, it's just me there now. I'm guessing you'd be looking for something smaller, just you and your dude?

[That's disappointing. He's mentioned be a father, which has gotten easier since remotely coping with his son's death, but not talked about many details. Like Cole's name, or what happened to the kid. Just mentioned that he was a father here and there, that past tense being of some muted importance.]

[But there's a shaky thought he's had sometimes. 'What if Cole showed up here?' It's obviously occurred for other people. But god, it would be a fucking nightmare for him to be yanked away again without so much of a moment of warning.]

Sorry to hear that. [He says pretty genuinely. And raises his glass.] To your family.

[But then, more technically.] We need a house, but it is just us. Maybe not a big house, but a house.

[He'll have to fight off the urge to want some spare room in the random hope his kid shows up. That torn feeling that he wants it to happen, but he doesn't want it to.]

Eh, don't worry about it. That's life - you lose people.

[Or they stop talking to you and you give up throwing yourself against that friggin wall. Whatever. His kids - some of them - were still around, just...not talking to him at the moment. Including the actual biological one.]

[Jack pulls out his pack of cigarettes and offers it in case Hank's a smoker.]

Miss my husband thing, though. We were...he was...ah, it was good. But yeah, uh....I mean Goldenrod's got a good market, it's a big hub. I like my neighborhood. I hear Ecruteak's pretty good for housing prices - never lived there, but I stayed at the big hotel a bunch, it's a nice city.

You do, that's true. But an empty house never feels great. [And good dogs, no matter how good, can only fill it so much. He doesn't know him incredibly well, so he's not sure if it's welcome, but he pats Jack's shoulder. The gesture heavy and companionable.]

Ecruteak. We'll eventually have to go through there. We'll probably be here for a while. Just getting settled, building up stock, that kind of thing. Fuckin'... tired of the janitor work but I do not have the face or disposition to sit at a PokeCenter desk.

[Aside from all that meandering drivel, though, and punctuated by a drink, he brings it back around again.] What was your husband like?

[He doesn't know if that's a fair thing to ask, but the guy still seems to love the hell out of him. Even in absentia.]

It's a real beach town, if you're into that. But like...classy? Got a nice gourmet scene - a lot of places here do. Food's a big industry. And shit, just find a niche and fill it. That's what I did. I make freaking greeting cards here. Pokemon ones. It's dumb and not at all my field, but...eh, makes me money! And kind of why I started getting so many dogs - puppies bring bank, man.

[People love mundane cute shit here. Jack just adapted. That's what sells? Fine, that's what he'll make. He just needs a new stupidly cute mascot, now that D. B. is a giant horrific hellbeast now.]

[He blinks a bit at the question - nobody ever asks about Felix.]

Huh? Oh, Felix was... I mean, we were never official married, it was like commonlaw but...ya know what I mean. And he...he was the biggest asshole you'll ever meet, honestly. Just...friggin jerk. Had this stupid orange frosted tip thing going on with his hair. But he was funny and we had a ton in common and just...got each other. And he was super hot - younger'n me, like 30s. Just...damn. I had the brains, he had the looks, we made lots of money.

[It's obvious Jack's still got a lot of affection for the guy, the way he talks.]

What's uh, what's your guy like?

[Since they're talking love lives and all.]

Connor looks early thirties, late twenties. But he's an android, so... he's pretty much younger than everybody. Better than me in every way, though. Smarter. Calmer. [More stable.] Even when he was supposed to do what he was told he'd find every loophole to do whatever the hell he wanted. [Hank says it fondly though it annoyed the everloving fuck out of him at the time.]

Real pretty, too.

[In other words, Hank knows that Connor is infinitely out of his league. Just fuckin' lightyears away.]

Looking forward to all that cradle robber judgement. Hoo boy.

[A deep sigh and a gesture for another drink. Maybe it won't happen here. Possibly.]

Can outsiders even be officially married out here? [Not that it's even nearly time to consider this because he's only been dating the motherfucker since his fucking birthday a few months back. It's been nowhere near long enough even staying in this place to consider some sort of formal union. But that idiotic romantic in the back of his mind compels him to ask.]

Edited 2018-12-03 05:15 (UTC)

Well, I mean...he's technically an android so isn't his age...whatever the hell age he was designed to be? So I figure it's a different kinda thing there. I dunno. I've met plenty of...aliens and robots and whatever here where age doesn't work the way it does for humans, so whatever.

[Jack shrugs. He doesn't care. And he's all for guys in his age bracket scoring with hot younger - but not inappropriately young - dudes. Very pro that whole thing.]

Oh, yeah, I mean...yeah.

[Now is not the time for the whole story of Jack's third wife, and that whole thing. It's weird and confusing and covers a lot, so he'll just give the simple answer.]

Own property, get married, own businesses, own Gyms... we can do pretty much anything the natives can. No weird restrictions 'cause we're space immigrants.

I didn't even think of it until now. He's always come off as a good detective as mature as any other person at the DPD. Just a model pretty one. [Fuckin' asshole using his pretty fucking eyes to get what he wants. That puppy dog face. Hank hates it. It's the worst. ~~It's the best.~~]

Great, good to know. So that means I can get some sort of contract and have an actual house.

[Since he's been here for a few months, it seems like he's gotta start looking into that sort of thing.]

You know what? I might start looking into your neighborhood. [He points at Jack.] Might be nice to live in a place where I gave enough of a fuck to talk to the neighbors. [Okay, he talked to his a little, but not so much in the past couple of years. Big family block events had stopped being his thing and he became a shut in asshole.]

Well hey, in that case... next month is the holiday season, I'm staying here through the winter, how about you and your dude come over next month. I'll get a cheese plate, some wine, classy shit. I'll show ya the house, whatever.

[Jack's just desperate enough to seize on any sort of potential 'friendship'. This would be better if he was still part of a couple, but...eh, whatever. He's Handsome Jack, he's never a third wheel!]

Uh...I do have a problematic Trubbish? I dunno even know how I ended up with it, it just decided it was mine. Even though it hates me. But Havoc's pretty good at keeping it in line. And my money cats are all kinda shitheads, but just ignore'em. And bring your dogs, I got dogs.

...The literal garbage monster? [Hank furrows his brow.] I almost thought those were a joke on the Pokegear. Those are real? Fuck....

Well, even if it's problematic, it'd be a new experience for me. I'll make it happen.

And yeah, I guess I technically got mine on me right now. I was keeping them out of the rain but- [Shit, bartenders don't seem to mind people having their pokemon out. There's someone's Mr. Mime (what the hell are those even) sitting by his sunken-eyed tired looking sea-captain-like trainer at a table, which is its own ill-fit sight as judged by the gruff man with a flower in his pocket. So he pulls out Luann's ball (she's not nearly as massive as Tubbs is at the moment) so she can just hang out.]

[After a moment of disoriented looking around, new surroundings and all, and two unfamiliar dogs, the lanky midday Lycanroc just lays down by her owner with her head making a sandstone sound when it rests on her prim front paws.]

That's one of them. Hunter and Tubbs are usually with me too. Houndoom and Arcanine. [He's kept them in his party since he first got them.]

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003 - Log

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