route_1065 | We Survived the Snowmageddon

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We Survived the Snowmageddon

Who: Albert Rosenfield (

worktodo) and whoever is congregating at the Justice Farm for the Christmas holiday!
Where: El Rancho del Justicia, aka Albert's house in Saffron City
When: Anytime between Monday the 24th and Wednesday the 26th!
Summary: A lot has changed in a month, but some things never do. Losers getting together to fail their way through the holiday season is one of them.
Rating: Individual threads may vary, but let's go with G overall and warn otherwise!
Log:

Despite generally doing a very excellent Grinch impression, Albert doesn't actually hate Christmas. Granted, it's not one of his favorite holidays the way that Thanksgiving is — it's a little too overdone, a little too commercial, lacking in some of the spirit of togetherness in favor of the spirit of consumerism — but it is decidedly a holiday, and once again Johto has presented him with a situation where he is forced to make a choice. For the second time this year (by Albert's reckoning), Johto appears to have done everything in its power to prevent them from putting on a holiday, including but not limited to summoning up the actual apocalypse. The question that begs to be asked, therefore, is simply: is Albert willing to surrender Christmas in the face of all these apparent attempts to ruin it?

The answer, naturally, is: oh, hell no.

It is, however, an undeniably different atmosphere from the one that filled the house on Thanksgiving. Most of the occupants of the house are worse off now than they were then, be it emotionally or physically — some from spooky encounters, some from harsh truths, and some from going out in the apocalyptic snow like the damn fools they are — so if there's slightly less pep and enthusiasm saturating the grounds, that could certainly be why. Any decorations applied to the outside of the house have been battered at best and outright wrecked at worst. But as the slightly paraphrased song lyric goes, "Though the weather outside is frightful, by the fire it's so delightful", and the interior of the house is a thankfully different story.

On Monday, Albert will be spending the Eve of Christmas largely in the kitchen, having allotted the whole day for getting all the components of Christmas dinner prepared and readied in advance; on Thanksgiving, it's a fundamental part of the holiday tradition to run around the kitchen like a madman trying to get dinner to the table on time, but for Christmas, he'd rather everything just go smoothly. Early arrivals are welcome to hang out in the cozy parts of the house, grab some cocoa, and carefully avoid him; otherwise, they might get drafted into menial labor like shoveling out the front walk or putting the finishing touches on the interior decor before the party officially kicks off.

By Tuesday, it's all Christmas all the time; there is no victory quite so sweet as the one that comes hard-won, and as far as Albert is concerned, the most effective "screw you" to Johto's Snowmageddon is putting on an occasion that is positively bursting with holly and jolly anyway. Somewhere near the kitchen, Zack the Porygon2 is contributing by blasting from his Gear's speakers a concert of every Christmas song he knows (of which there are three: "Feliz Navidad", "Grandma Got Run Over By A ~~Stantler~~ Reindeer", and the Weather Girls' "It's Raining Men"). A stately (albeit slightly lopsided) Christmas tree that is probably the Johto equivalent of a Douglas fir is set up in a corner of the living room near the fireplace — which is burning merrily — and its branches are decorated with makeshift ornaments like Pokeballs and paper throwing stars along with the standard colored bauble variety. Stuff your presents below; there'll be time for opening them later, but for now they're part of the decor. There's holly on the piano and fake candles in the windows, and you better believe at least half of those doorways have mistletoe strategically placed near them. Don't get caught! (Or do, if that's what you're here for.)

The one new and interesting addition to the house can be found in a corner of the living room, where a little space has been carved out for a small end table topped with coasters, a chair, and a tripod apparatus just the right size for holding a standard Pokegear. Got someone to call and wish a Merry Christmas? Do it from the comfort of this corner like it's Masterpiece Theater.

But however Tuesday is spent, there's sure to be a lot of love, gifting, and good Christmas cheer. Or else.

When Wednesday comes along, it'll be the standard post-Christmas wind-down — leftovers aplenty in the kitchen, trash bags of crumpled wrapping paper tucked into the corners, and a nice low-pressure environment in which to interact, gush over gifts, and enjoy the spirit of the season a little longer before getting right back to work on Important Business. For some, that might mean playing in the snow or having a snowball fight; for others, that might mean coordinating federal agent business for the future. But either way, it's another Christmas survived, and that's what really matters, right?

[OOC: Just like last time, this is an open log for everybody coming to Albert's for Christmas! Feel free to start your own threads as you please — open them to everybody, close them to specific people, whatever works for you. Just make a note in the header of what day it's taking place on and who all's invited, and have fun, everybody! Also, for people who aren't physically present at the Farm on Christmas, feel free to use the designated Skype Thread™ to chat with them over video anyway!]

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_{[It's totally a crow tied to a balloon.]

[A crow who is, incidentally, wriggling happily in midair now that she's found someone else to bother.]}

Butts and POO.

_{[She adds this with relish (her trainer's weird lazy friend with the camera taught her that second one c:), only to suddenly realize that the balloon, apathetic to her desire to thoroughly annoy every living being she comes across, is drifting over the table, past and AWAY from Harry.]

[D: NOOOOOOOO]}

[So that does absolutely nothing to alleviate Harry's concern that he's gone off the deep end. If anything, it makes him more worried.

Then, from the floor, he hears the following in a high-pitched little voice:] Butts!

[He looks down.

Clara's learned her first word.

And Harry, who is too bowled over by the absurdity of the situation, puts his head down on the table and starts cracking up. It's that helpless, edging-toward-hysteria sort of laughter, but... it's still laughter. And that counts for something, right?]

_{[Wren has been in this house for less than a day and already, she has taught the word 'butt' to an infant. It's a Christmas miracle.]

[Enthusiasm rekindling in the face of this obviously-blessed child repeating her words, Wren turns herself around in the air so that she can face the man and his Cleffa as she continues to drift away.]}

Butts! Butt bum poo bitch ho--

... WREN!

_{[Hark! What's that? Why, it's TOO-LATE TRAINER!]}

Wren, leave that guy alo-- ... onnnne. Um.

... Are you, uh... are you okay, mister?

_{[Far too late, Heather had arrived on the scene, still wearing her leather coat despite the indoor warmth. She had rushed forward to grab the Murkrow out of the air, but stopped short when she noticed the poor sheriff sitting there in hysterics.]}

[No, Harry is not okay. But this is a different kind of not okay. It's like... an okay sort of not okay.

At least he's on the verge of tears for a much less upsetting reason, is what we're saying. That can be counted as a good thing.

He lifts his head and recognizes Heather immediately.]

Is that your bird?

_{[GOOD. This is good. Sometimes an injection of total idiocy can do wonders for a case of melancholy.]

[Heather grabs hold of the errant Murkrow and tugs it over to her while it kicks its legs happily. C: WREN HELPED.]}

Uh-- yeah, haha, she's mine. Was she bothering you, s--

_{[... Heeeey! It was, uh. That guy! Who was named Harry.]}

Hey!

Wow, you sure made good progress since the last time I saw you!

_{[He may notice similar signs of wear and exhaustion on her face-- deep shadows under the eyes, hair that doesn't look like it's seen a brush in days... but she's grinning that crooked grin anyway.]}

[Harry can't help but smile at that, too — it's not a completely happy smile, though. It's like this house is a magnet for human-shaped wrecks.

Maybe that's a good thing.]

I did. Carmen picked me up. I didn't know you knew —

[And here it is again, the realization that everyone in this house pretty much knows everyone. He'll let Heather fill him in on who she knows.]

_{[... Now that you mention it... it totally is. Must be fate.]}

OH. Yeah, uh.

_{[Grinning a little sheepishly, she tucks the Murkrow (which lets out a protesting squawk) under one arm, jerking one thumb over her shoulder.]}

I'm one of Cooper's friends. He's, uh, you know. Carmen's boyfriend.

_{[Because since he said he was picked up by Carmen, she's just assuming that SHE is the connection Harry has to the house.]}

I know. [Harry leans back in his chair and gives her a quick once-over, for no reason other than it's instinct.]

Coop and I worked together, back home. Same goes for Albert and Gordon.

_{[Instincts are important. And... well, unfortunately, instinct will probably tell him that Heather looks like a total delinquent. Leather coat, short scruffy hair, scarred hands, torn jeans... and brightly-colored socks with little Chatots on them, but LET'S JUST FORGET ABOUT THOSE.]

[Still, she looks first surprised and then a little delighted, and then a little HORRIFIED, when he reveals that holy shit, he's yet ANOTHER Cooper Coworker (tm).]}

Dude, are you freakin' serious?

It's like... an FBI office party in this place or something! _{[... Because yeah, assuming he's part of the FBI. ASSUMPTIONS EVERYWHERE.]}

I had no idea!

_{[... Cooper hadn't said anything about it. ... But then again, between them, they'd had a whole hell of a lot more to sort through than arrivals. She's not exactly surprised he hadn't decided she needed to know about more of his friends showing up...]}

WOW, and my Pokemon totally just shouted like five different words for 'shit' at you, some first impression I'm making...

_{[... And as though on cue, Wren cheerfully croaks a distinct "FUCK!" from her spot in the crook of Heather's arm. Her beak is promptly held shut.]}

Um... yeah.

I didn't teach her that.

_{[She totally did.]}

Edited 2012-12-24 08:29 (UTC)

[Harry's seen his share of teenage delinquency, and yeah, Heather kind of fits the bill, but the fact remains that she was helpful to him on his very first day, so he's not going to pass that kind of judgment based on appearances alone.

That is not what sheriffs do. Ahem.]

Close — I'm not with the FBI. Starting to think I'm the only one in this house who isn't, actually.

[He's serious.]

I'm local law enforcement. Sheriff of Twin Peaks.

[...and wow, okay, that bird has got some beak on her. Harry's half tempted to cover Clara's ears, lest she pick up another word.

As if on cue, she again says, "Butts!" So Harry decides now would be a good time to pick her up, place her on his lap, and give Wren a good, hard look.]

I didn't know crows could mimic like that.

_{[Even filthy punk kids can be good Samaritans sometimes!]}

Oh! That's the town he was investigating in, right?

_{[She doesn't know it so much by name, only by what he was DOING there... which is a topic she's ENTIRELY wanting to avoid right now, after what had happened on that horrible weekend in November.]}

That's still cool, you know, that you and the other guys are here. I love Gordon, that guy's a riot.

_{[For her part, Heather... TOTALLY judges based on appearance, at least when it comes to the police. She'd never exactly had a good relationship with the law, not here and not back home, either. But to say that Cooper had started to turn that on its head would be an understatement, so for the time being at least, Harry is several steps higher on the Mental Judgement Staircase in her head than he would have been without the association.]

[Which is why, rather than smirking and making some quip about how Wren 'takes after me', she instead grins sheepishly, reaching up to rub the back of her neck while still holding the Murkrow's beak shut, ignoring the muffled gobbling sounds of protest coming from the little black bird.]}

Yeah, actually, not many people know about it... but crows are real smart. Like, smarter than parrots even. They can talk if you teach 'em.

... I didn't find out until she unexpectedly started singing dirty limericks in front of my dad... That was sort of awkward...

Yup.

[And it's just as well that Heather doesn't ask, because "talk about Twin Peaks" is at the very top of Harry's Things I Don't Want to Do Right Now list.

He cracks an amused smile at the mention of Gordon.]

Yeah, the chief's quite a character.

[And Harry would be happy to know that his association with Coop earns him brownie points in Heather's book, but this is just like his relationship with Carmen — it's great that Coop was their jumping off point, but Harry doesn't want that to be all they have in common.]

What was that you called her? Wren?

Yeah, that's her name...

_{[At last, the Murkrow wriggles free of her arms and starts to climb up the girl's sleeve, beak fortunately occupied in pulling herself skyward rather than spewing bad language.]}

She's, uh... precocious.

_{[Looking down at Clara, she winces a little bit. She hadn't missed that cheerful repetition of the 'b' word.]}

... Looks like yours is, too. Better be careful.

_{[She hadn't been aware that non-bird Pokemon could learn to talk, but YOU NEVER KNOW...]}

[Yeah, that's a new one for Harry, too.

But Clara is technically an alien, so he really has no idea what the hell she's capable of. She could start speaking in fluent Latin and he wouldn't be surprised. Or something.]

If she's a crow, why Wren?

[Sorry, Heather. This is one of those things Harry can't help. ASK ALL THE QUESTIONS!]

_{[You just never know with aliens, man.]}

... Oh. Uh...

_{[It's sort of funny... no one's ever actually asked her that before. Biting her lip, she removes Wren from her shoulder (the Murkrow had been determinedly starting to tug on her ear) and stuffs her under one arm again.]}

Well... it's kinda silly, I guess. It was after a riddle I read once. The name just kinda stuck with me.

_{[She's not sure if he's really that curious or if it was just a conversation-starter, though, so she arches a bit of a brow at him, as though to ask whether or not he wants further elaboration than that.]

[... Not that he'd get the full story... because the Bird Puzzle's full meaning quite frankly strays into territory that Heather doesn't like talking about to anybody, but the Cliffnotes, censored version? Sure, why not.]}

[Harry doesn't think that's silly. That's as good a reason as any — and who's he to judge? He's aiming to name his team after American historical figures. ~~NERRRRRRD~~

Clara, who thinks being tucked under an arm like that seems like fun, starts trying to wriggle her way under Harry's arm. He obliges.]

It's a nice name.

_{[OMG DORK. But no, that's fine. Several of Heather's are named after cheesy B-Horror movie monsters. She's got no room to talk.]}

Heh, thanks. I always sorta thought so.

The riddle said that wrens were brave fools who made people laugh and never grow old. I figured that matched her pretty well.

_{[... And, you know, there was the part where that riddle had actually referred to Heather herself, but there you go.]}

Who's the marshmallow? _{[She nods to Clara, who has pretty much already captured her heart with her determined mimicry of Bad News Bird over here.]}

Sounds like it.

[For the record, Harry thinks it's both hilarious and smart that she's tied Wren to a balloon. Maybe he can try to do that for Waldo. Then he'd get to fly and be held in one place!

...knowing him, though, he'd find a way to pop it and then freak out over the noise. Or freak about it all in general.]

Clara Lucia.

[Upon hearing her full name, she stops with the wriggling and perks up. Yes? What? What is it?]

_{[It's hilarious right up until she somehow drifts outside and FLOATS OFF INTO THE SKY NEVER TO RETURN, but fortunately since it's cold out and the doors are being shut behind everybody with a vengeance, that probably won't happen. Aside from that, though, Heather will freely claim that it was a stroke of the ol' Mason genius at work.]

[Of course, it largely only works because Wren is still enthused about it. Once the novelty of her new transport wears off, you could bet she'd find a way to destroy it. Waldo... probably isn't as patient.]}

She's a cutie.

Seems a lot friendlier than your starter, too.

[Waldo and patience should not even be used in the same sentence.]

Isn't she? Clara's a sweetheart. She only hatched a little while ago, though, so she's been kind of a handful.

[But Proud Papa Harry don't curr because Clara is the cutest thing ever.]

I think what Waldo needs is some training. My whole team does, but him especially.

Did she? Heh, yeah, they're always like that when they're little... _{[She doesn't like to use the word 'babies'. Bad associations.]

[Other than that, though, she can agree. She has fond memories of all her Pokemon when they'd just hatched, even the ones who'd caused trouble left and right.]}

What've you been doing with him so far?

_{[Heather's no expert trainer and HER starter certainly didn't become a perfectly-trained wonder after three weeks (hell, he didn't after three YEARS, either), but.]}

Not much. That's part of the problem.

[Clara gets a fond little pat on the head, then Harry carefully sets her back down on the floor. She immediately takes off for Elsewhere.]

We were only really on the road for the three days it took us to get to Cherrygrove. We had to travel with Carmen, too, but he wasn't out much during that time. Since then, we've been here, and the weather hasn't exactly been accommodating.

Eeesh. Yeah, I'll say it hasn't.

_{[Since Harry doesn't seem too enraged about the first impression Wren made, Heather takes the liberty of pulling out a chair and setting the bird down on the table. The balloon isn't so buoyant that she'll float without sort of being tossed up first.]}

I wish I had more advice, but to be totally honest, I just fly by the seat of my pants when it comes to training these guys. D'you have any others besides just-- er... Clara?

'Cuz mine do a pretty good job of keeping each other in line.

_{[Which is mostly because some of them are more mature than their trainer is.]}

[...yeah, the birdloon thing is still kind of hilarious. Harry staunchly avoids looking at it.]

Clara, Waldo, and Henry. So far, Henry's the only one who's shown any signs of being able to keep either of them in line, and even his efforts aren't really... welcome. But none of them really have that much training—out of the group, Waldo's got the most.

Yeah? Well, that's good anyway.

What kinda Pokemon is Henry?

_{[She... can't help but sort of grin at that name. Since she kinda LIVES with someone named Henry and he is, uh. ... Well, she wouldn't be surprised if he was actually better at being a Pokemon than being a human sometimes.]}

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likewatson - 2013-01-04 02:29 (UTC) - Expand

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We Survived the Snowmageddon

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bustin' out the crazybird icon

best crazybird

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