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victory_road2020-03-20 07:04 pm
indigo_events) wrote in victory_road2020-03-20 07:04 pm
Entry tags:
Po-ta-toes! Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a... curry?
Who: Everybody! The Snorlax! The Munchlax! The Mystery Guests!
Where: Route 39
When: March 20th and 21st
Summary: Lets cook some curries.
Rating: General.
Log:
Early spring brings with it bright sunshine and slightly chilly air, green shoots of new grass poking up from the earth as farmers survey fields that have laid bare all winter. Across Johto and Kanto (and who knows where else?), windows and doors are thrown open to air out spaces closed up for the winter, the commencement of a mysterious rite known only as ‘spring cleaning.’
At MooMoo Ranch, it heralds an additional rite: the yearly tradition that precedes the tilling of those fields and the sowing of seeds:
THE GREAT CURRY COOKOUT
Let’s just be up front about this: the entirety of Route 38 smells absolutely amazing. Traditionally (you’re going to hear that word a lot here), the curries cooked up by the locals are made of whatever leftovers from the previous year’s harvest that may be found kicking around the various parlours and cellars, but because humans can’t eat the berries that Pokemon can, and because they want to eat too, and because once you let humans at a recipe, they can’t not experiment with it...
If you can imagine a curry, someone has either made it, is in the process of making it, or is preparing to make it right the heck now. There are some dishes that don’t seem too out of place: sausage curries, curries with tinned meat or beans added to the mix, mushroom curries, curries decorated so cutely that they flood your Poke-Instagram page, potato curries, herb-laden curries, spice-tastic curries, coconut curries, curries accompanied by savory burger steaks...these all at least seem like normal curry variants, right?
And then there’s the odd stuff. Curries topped with swirls of spaghetti, boiled-egg curries, instant-noodle curries loaded up next to curries topped with a medley of fried foods, toast slices resting on beds of curry, leeks grilled and whole on curries, apple curries, salad curries, curries with whole bones kept in them to add additional flavor, tropical curries with decorative flowers added on the side, cheese-covered curries, even...whipped cream curries…? Uh...sure, okay! There’s even the rare smoked Slowpoke Tail curry, the tail packages labeled with “CRUELTY-FREE SLOWPOKE TAIL” and seals of legal and bureaucratic approval. Dry, sweet, spicy, bitter, sour - you name it, there’s a curry for it!
It’s a little weird, though, right? All this curry, and, uh, all these Snorlax… and Munchlax… wait, actually, when did those start to show up?! Is this… safe??? The locals don’t seem surprised in the least, but there sure are a lot of them…. did they all really come down from the mountains?
Is this part of the tradition, too?!
Good question!
Lucky for YOU, any trainer (un?)fortunate enough to be caught standing still for one second too long by one of the elderly locals (or walks too close to one, or accepts a curry offering from one) will be treated to a retelling of the story behind both the Snorlax and the curry. Turns out, the salivating Snorlax and the just-as-hungry baby Munchlax are not just part of the tradition -- they’re the reason for it!
Long ago, in the day of so-and-so’s grandmother’s grandmother’s grandmother, the Snorlax and Munchlax were a downright menace. Every year, once the snows would start to melt, they’d start coming down from the mountains to the north in droves, descending upon the farms and fields just as that year’s planting began to sprout like a plague of very hungry caterpies, gobbling up everything in sight until nothing but barren earth remained. They even busted down fences and barns in their pursuit of fresh food! Proper menaces to society, right here.
At first, the farmers tried to battle the Snorlax, but it did not end well. Their Miltank and Tauros herds weren’t meant for battle, and Snorlax are as mighty as their appetites! Then one year, a young farm girl had an idea! (Depending on who's telling the story, it might have been a farm boy. Or just a farmer, gender unknown. It is always, mysteriously, someone in the teller's family tree.) Rather than trying to fight off the Snorlax, this mysterious individual suggested inviting them all to one big dinner. They could cook up all the leftovers from the last harvest, have a big feast out of it and feed the hungry Snorlax so they'd leave the seedlings alone.
And it worked! The Snorlax were happy, the fields were left alone and the fences and barns kept standing strong.
(Well, except that one year with ol’ man Gregory’s barn, but that had very little to do with the Snorlax, and far more to do with ol’ man Gregory’s fierce enjoyment of the special sake brewed by the monks of Sprout Tower, a very terrible bet, and one prized herd of Miltanks and really, if you don’t watch it, you might be stuck listening to that old tale as well.)
Obviously, since the current farms and fields are still intact and going strong, the feast not only worked, but held strong as a tradition. But hey! It’s a fun story, and the curry is good! And oh my ARCEUS, you have heard this story so many times from so many old farming folks you are so tired, please, you just wanted to find a bathroom, yes, thank you for the bowl of curry, you really must be going now-
Only… there’s something weird about this year’s gathering. Something unexpected.
In addition to the Snorlax and Munchlax lumbering down in droves for a good meal, another kind of Pokemon has emerged, lured by the delectable scents, and it’s not one that many folks have seen before. Keen-eyed trainers can spot them just about everywhere: lingering under the eaves of the roofs, peeking out from behind bushes and tree branches, but most of all, slowly drawing close to the source of all those delicious smells, their voices ringing out like clear little bells.
That’s right, Milcery are swarming!
Unfortunately, the Snorlax and Munchlax don’t seem too keen on sharing their special once-a-year treat. Hangry tempers are starting to flare up, the bubbling of many pots and pans joined by low grumbling as the Snorlax and Munchlax are starting to stake claim against these strange newcomers. In fact, someone should probably get out there and try and calm the situation down.
Which doesn’t mean take out your pokemon and start any battles! Anyone trying to do that will get a right scolding by one of those inescapable geriatric storytellers. Do you want to cause some sort of stampede here like what claimed ol’ man Gregory’s barn? No sir! (Who’s sir? We’re unclear.) There will be no battling here. Put on your best smile! Break out that cheery personality, and try to actually peacekeep. Or if that isn’t your thing, maybe try and help out with the cooking. With this many cooks around, there is always someone who needs an extra hand to peel some potatoes or dice some carrots, right? If you got a particular hankering, why not claim one of those may pots and pans for yourself and start preparing your own prized curry?
Because judging by the mass of Snorlax, Munchlax, and Milcery? We are going to need a bigger curry.
Where: Route 39
When: March 20th and 21st
Summary: Lets cook some curries.
Rating: General.
Log:
Early spring brings with it bright sunshine and slightly chilly air, green shoots of new grass poking up from the earth as farmers survey fields that have laid bare all winter. Across Johto and Kanto (and who knows where else?), windows and doors are thrown open to air out spaces closed up for the winter, the commencement of a mysterious rite known only as ‘spring cleaning.’
At MooMoo Ranch, it heralds an additional rite: the yearly tradition that precedes the tilling of those fields and the sowing of seeds:
THE GREAT CURRY COOKOUT
Let’s just be up front about this: the entirety of Route 38 smells absolutely amazing. Traditionally (you’re going to hear that word a lot here), the curries cooked up by the locals are made of whatever leftovers from the previous year’s harvest that may be found kicking around the various parlours and cellars, but because humans can’t eat the berries that Pokemon can, and because they want to eat too, and because once you let humans at a recipe, they can’t not experiment with it...
If you can imagine a curry, someone has either made it, is in the process of making it, or is preparing to make it right the heck now. There are some dishes that don’t seem too out of place: sausage curries, curries with tinned meat or beans added to the mix, mushroom curries, curries decorated so cutely that they flood your Poke-Instagram page, potato curries, herb-laden curries, spice-tastic curries, coconut curries, curries accompanied by savory burger steaks...these all at least seem like normal curry variants, right?
And then there’s the odd stuff. Curries topped with swirls of spaghetti, boiled-egg curries, instant-noodle curries loaded up next to curries topped with a medley of fried foods, toast slices resting on beds of curry, leeks grilled and whole on curries, apple curries, salad curries, curries with whole bones kept in them to add additional flavor, tropical curries with decorative flowers added on the side, cheese-covered curries, even...whipped cream curries…? Uh...sure, okay! There’s even the rare smoked Slowpoke Tail curry, the tail packages labeled with “CRUELTY-FREE SLOWPOKE TAIL” and seals of legal and bureaucratic approval. Dry, sweet, spicy, bitter, sour - you name it, there’s a curry for it!
It’s a little weird, though, right? All this curry, and, uh, all these Snorlax… and Munchlax… wait, actually, when did those start to show up?! Is this… safe??? The locals don’t seem surprised in the least, but there sure are a lot of them…. did they all really come down from the mountains?
Is this part of the tradition, too?!
Good question!
Lucky for YOU, any trainer (un?)fortunate enough to be caught standing still for one second too long by one of the elderly locals (or walks too close to one, or accepts a curry offering from one) will be treated to a retelling of the story behind both the Snorlax and the curry. Turns out, the salivating Snorlax and the just-as-hungry baby Munchlax are not just part of the tradition -- they’re the reason for it!
Long ago, in the day of so-and-so’s grandmother’s grandmother’s grandmother, the Snorlax and Munchlax were a downright menace. Every year, once the snows would start to melt, they’d start coming down from the mountains to the north in droves, descending upon the farms and fields just as that year’s planting began to sprout like a plague of very hungry caterpies, gobbling up everything in sight until nothing but barren earth remained. They even busted down fences and barns in their pursuit of fresh food! Proper menaces to society, right here.
At first, the farmers tried to battle the Snorlax, but it did not end well. Their Miltank and Tauros herds weren’t meant for battle, and Snorlax are as mighty as their appetites! Then one year, a young farm girl had an idea! (Depending on who's telling the story, it might have been a farm boy. Or just a farmer, gender unknown. It is always, mysteriously, someone in the teller's family tree.) Rather than trying to fight off the Snorlax, this mysterious individual suggested inviting them all to one big dinner. They could cook up all the leftovers from the last harvest, have a big feast out of it and feed the hungry Snorlax so they'd leave the seedlings alone.
And it worked! The Snorlax were happy, the fields were left alone and the fences and barns kept standing strong.
(Well, except that one year with ol’ man Gregory’s barn, but that had very little to do with the Snorlax, and far more to do with ol’ man Gregory’s fierce enjoyment of the special sake brewed by the monks of Sprout Tower, a very terrible bet, and one prized herd of Miltanks and really, if you don’t watch it, you might be stuck listening to that old tale as well.)
Obviously, since the current farms and fields are still intact and going strong, the feast not only worked, but held strong as a tradition. But hey! It’s a fun story, and the curry is good! And oh my ARCEUS, you have heard this story so many times from so many old farming folks you are so tired, please, you just wanted to find a bathroom, yes, thank you for the bowl of curry, you really must be going now-
Only… there’s something weird about this year’s gathering. Something unexpected.
In addition to the Snorlax and Munchlax lumbering down in droves for a good meal, another kind of Pokemon has emerged, lured by the delectable scents, and it’s not one that many folks have seen before. Keen-eyed trainers can spot them just about everywhere: lingering under the eaves of the roofs, peeking out from behind bushes and tree branches, but most of all, slowly drawing close to the source of all those delicious smells, their voices ringing out like clear little bells.
That’s right, Milcery are swarming!
Unfortunately, the Snorlax and Munchlax don’t seem too keen on sharing their special once-a-year treat. Hangry tempers are starting to flare up, the bubbling of many pots and pans joined by low grumbling as the Snorlax and Munchlax are starting to stake claim against these strange newcomers. In fact, someone should probably get out there and try and calm the situation down.
Which doesn’t mean take out your pokemon and start any battles! Anyone trying to do that will get a right scolding by one of those inescapable geriatric storytellers. Do you want to cause some sort of stampede here like what claimed ol’ man Gregory’s barn? No sir! (Who’s sir? We’re unclear.) There will be no battling here. Put on your best smile! Break out that cheery personality, and try to actually peacekeep. Or if that isn’t your thing, maybe try and help out with the cooking. With this many cooks around, there is always someone who needs an extra hand to peel some potatoes or dice some carrots, right? If you got a particular hankering, why not claim one of those may pots and pans for yourself and start preparing your own prized curry?
Because judging by the mass of Snorlax, Munchlax, and Milcery? We are going to need a bigger curry.
no subject
Muffled, as if from behind an actual door, Okay! That's okay! Mom says I need to ask before I talk so I just thought knocking was okay, but - but it's nice to see you again, Uncle Dirk!
He then keeps his muzzle firmly shut, though he's not even talking through it - it's a muscle memory kind of thing, a visible show of him willingly backing off unless the metaphorical door was opened.
Jane, watching cautiously,] ...Everything okay?
no subject
No. Play it chill. And while I'm at it, ice him out with my cool.]
Just a little misunderstanding.
[Perfect. That's right. No big deal.
And now the follow-through: nice and casual. Don't push it.]
I know that my twin offspring can be little bitches by various definitions, but I don't recall ever being a dog's uncle.
no subject
[She goes a little red and smiles, bashful.]
It's...Augie's very family-oriented. He was the first Pokemon I hatched from an egg, you see, and he took to me being his mother very easily. Everyone around him at the time sort of became aunts and uncles...
[She looks embarrassed, but in a sweet way, even though she's now thinking about all the foxes that also consider her their mother...
August pouts a little at the nickname, but true to his word, he stays quiet, his tail swish-vibrating in place.]
no subject
[What the fuck am I supposed to say to that? Like really.
'Family?'
I can respect the compensatory figure of reverence thing that Dave has going about the Mayor. Some good old-fashioned traumagenic projection, an ideological character whose mythos he could hang onto in the absence of the hero he thought I was supposed to be, a psychological and emotional fabrication enabling him to become the hero he is and was. I respect that, but I respect him more, I respect him too much for that. He's gotta grow up some time.
And at my point in canon it was high time to drop the Mayor schtick and leave the booster seat out on the kerb, along with the crib and high chair.
He won't be needing that any more.
This is... well, it's embarrassing. It's embarrassing to witness and even more embarrassing to participate in. For one thing, she's younger. Like, we're really pushing the use of 'milf' on this one. I know it's a Thing of hers, but as she's a Thing independent of canon, by which I mean canon is independent of her, I...
Do I really fucking have to?]
'Everyone.'
[....
....exactly how much of this can that fox still hear?]
I have a pretty solid suspicion that you're implying something here, and that I know exactly what that something you're implying is... but let's have it out in plain English. You know, before I go ahead and end up starting some shit that didn't need startin'.
no subject
[She sighs, rubs her temples.]
Yes, Dirk, there's been a "you" here before. Just one. I...honestly thought I mentioned it before, but...I guess it slipped my mind.
no subject
....
I don't remember that.
[Knock knock.
You listening?]
no subject
[She's lived here long enough to just. Accept it. Because to cope with how big and scary that can be for someone so grounded in what is perceived as reality, you have to accept the things you can't take apart and understand.]
But I wasn't going to just - expect you to remember, or be that specific person...
[August perks up, looking at Dirk directly. He's listening.]
no subject
[I stop, close my mouth, pressing my jaw tight for just a second.
...that sentence is already complete.]
....
I should.
[You. You remember him. How much of me can you access from over there?
... can you tell? Are we even the same person?]
no subject
[Jane looks a little hurt at the idea - not at denying Dirk his obsessive collection of selves, but at forcing him to be a singular self that she happens to remember. It was - it was fine, in the scope of this weird world, it really was okay! She couldn't force Dart, for example, to accept her when he'd gone through two Janes in his life - it had taken time and dedication for them to finally bond. So in theory, shouldn't that same courtesy be extended to exist between the people brought here?
August tilts his head, expressing the sense of this meme for a good while before he sends Dirk a muffled-by-door message.
You said you didn't want me to look in though?
Oh my fucking God why is he being polite now of all times.]
no subject
[It comes out flat, like a defeat or at least an unhappy finality. Not because I'm distracted, though I am that too. It's just.... more of me that isn't me. That isn't under my control. Pieces broken off. Parts amputated. Losing, and being lost.
Are you seriously telling me you didn't just get bowled over by a fucking tsunami of Me before you even got to the door to knock on it?]
no subject
I...Dirk, I...I can't just. I can't assume you'll be exactly one way. That's not right.
[Muffled:
I'm gonna be honest, I've been kind of ignoring it 'cause I shouldn't peek without getting permission! But it's a lot of stuff and I don't, uh, know what to do with everything?
He's kind of stupid, bless his heart.]
no subject
If he's not me, and I'm not him, then who is he?
[...does it scare you?
Are you afraid of it?
Of me?
.......
Nevermind. Forget I said anything.
Just go talk to the fish.
That's what you're here for.]
no subject
He's him - and you're you. I bet if you asked anyone who's been here long enough to see folks come and go you'd hear the same sentiment - to not force someone to be who they're not.
[What? No, you're Uncle Dirk! I could never be afraid of you!
He's so dumb. It's very clear he has no idea the magnitude of what's behind the "door", or can properly fathom what's pushing back in his brain.
Oh, I can do that! I'll go do that!
August turns to Fishy Friend to begin the "knock on the door" process.]
rip to icarus but im different
...
rip to them but I'm different.
It's just different.
I--
[Fuck.]
Guess I shouldn't have thought you'd understand that.
[Hello I don't know how to answer a door? I think I'd need hands? But I haven't got those? You'll have answer the door for me, please and thank you! Hello!]
no subject
[She's. Really trying here.
Oh as long as it's okay!
The door is answered.
Hello! Hi! How are you! What's it like to be you? My name's August and that's my Mom!]
no subject
Not that. I know I'm not going to be 'like' him.
But the difference between the two--him, and me--shouldn't exist. I should know him. He should be me.
[Arctovish doesn't really... move. Or blink. Or... anything. It hovers there, the ends of its still fins inches above the grass.]
[Thank you! Hello!
.....
Oh!
I like being me? I think?
I like it when we're outside! I like to look at sky. I like to look at grass!
What's it like to be you?
....
?What's a Mom?]
no subject
[This is something to do with that "Ultimate Self" and being a whole bunch of Dirks in one body, isn't it.]
Well...honestly, I can't...say whether or not he's part of that big conglomeration of Dirks or not. I don't even know how it works.
[If he's adamant that this is a thing for him, then...like...she's kind of out in uncharted territory here. Has he absorbed All Dirks Across The Multiverse? Is this world interfering with that and he was still slowly collecting them in his brain? Fuck if she knows, honestly.
It's okay! Kind of weird that I can do this. I'm still not used to it? I was little before and then I evolved and suddenly I could do brain things and it was really hard to control for a while.
August points to Jane, wagging his tail. That's a Mom!]
no subject
This place isn't anywhere within Paradox Space. Or if it is, it's been sealed up tight.
Still. If he was, I'd know. Or I would have known. But he's not even part of me. And I'm right here.
[Oh. Hello, Mom!
And the Arctovish begins to move--slowly, its fins barely moving to propel it on a silent glide forward.
...towards Jane.]
no subject
...I mean...maybe you don't have, uh...all the Dirks yet?
[Gotta catch 'em all, Dirk-e-mon
*GAAASP* Wait she's also your Mom?! Then we're...brothers!!
Oh my God he's so stupid, bless his heart.]