route_1065 | Michael Bublé Wrote A Song About This Log

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Michael Bublé Wrote A Song About This Log

Who: Anyone currently living on or welcome at the Justice Farm!
Where: Albert Rosenfield's Justice Farm of SCIENCE!! in Saffron City
When: Anytime in the month of January
Summary: A compilation of all those one-off threads, logs, and other general social interactions that don't warrant their own individual post and yet promise to be too much fun to outright handwave, either.
Rating: May vary! But assume PG unless noted otherwise.
Log:

☆ YOU ARE HERE ☆
(IT LOOKS LIKE THIS.)

Let the shenanigans ensue.

Threaded | Flat

[Visiting the Justice Farm wasn't a strange occurrence. Reid's friends were there, and Mio... well she wouldn't call them her friends--maybe Hiccup and Heather?--but the rest were just people she knew.

If pressed she might admit it's something akin to family, just family she's not close to, that's loud and noisy and there's Dad Cooper and the grumpy Uncle Albert and Big Sister Heather, Big Brother Reid, etc.

...Speaking of family, she has a serous inquiry to make with her niisan. When Mio finally gathers her courage about her, she jumps at him, grabbing at his sleeve]

Niisan! I need to talk to you!

[It's been a long, cold, and arduous journey for the Truman team. There was blood, there was sweat, there were more tears than Harry will ever admit; there was urinating out in the open air (and plenty of it); there were battles won and lost, there was breathtaking scenery followed by more breathtaking scenery, and then there was the journey home filled with all of the above, again, in reverse.

And now it's over, and Harry's back, and we mean that in more ways than one.

With Clara trotting happily along at his side (which is really the side of his calf, not his side-side), he enters the house, wipes his feet on the mat, opens his mouth to proclaim that he has returned, and —

And then Clara realizes that they're back and wow that's just the best thing ever and hey do you know what the only proper response to such a welling up of positive emotions is? SINGING.

So a sweet little melody fills the air, and if you're listening carefully and not asleep by now, you might also hear the very distinct thud of a fairly well-built 6'1" human body collapsing in a heap on the floor.]

[Albert's diagnosis of cabin fever was accurate. Ziva doesn't like being indoors, she doesn't like being idle.

So at various times throughout the month, despite the chill, she can be found outside, conducting elaborate mock battles between her various Pokemon, or a bit farther down the road battling wild ones.

She's probably going to have to find a new diversion soon.]

[The light dusting of glitter on one of the couch cushions could easily be shrugged off as a Christmas leftover brought to light again by one of the many Pokémon wandering around.

And that's all it is, at first.

But then Franklin somehow finds the entire stash of glitter (never mind the question of why the hell did anyone buy that much glitter in the first place?), and that's when all sparkly hell breaks loose. It begins in Harry's room.

It then spreads to the bathroom he shares with Coop and Carmen.

He catches the mess in the laundry room, too, and he cleans all of it, but there's no hiding the traces of glitter shimmering on the carpets. It's glitter. It never goes away.

And then, one morning, the mother of all glamorous explosions bursts forth from atop the fridge, adding a bit of unwanted pizazz to just about everything in a ten-foot radius and then some. Sparkles drift into the dining room, some into the hall — there's a little bit of it everywhere, actually.

Everywhere.]

Ziva is reading in the front room when there's a knock on the door. This puzzles her for a couple of reasons, mostly being that anyone that comes over to the house generally has a standing invitation and a key--even if they knock they let themselves in a moment or two later. Secondly, even if someone wants to show up who doesn't have the means to let themselves in, they generally call first.

A second knock definitively proves that neither of these are the case, and Ziva being the only one in range to answer the door, she sets her book aside and gets up to do so.

The young man framed in the glass panel of the front door is unfamiliar to her, unremarkable in appearance, wearing a black wool coat open over a black shirt and dark green apron, with what is presumably the logo of a store in town. Well, nothing to do but open the door and see what he wants.

...apparently he wants to make sure everyone in the house is alive.

"Um...no one came to pick up your standing coffee order this week, usually that guy comes every week like clockwork. Monday, between 2 and 4 o'clock, and it's Thursday..."

"Evidently he forgot. He has been rather busy these last few days. One of us will come tomorrow, I assure you. Thank you for your concern as well, you certainly did not have to come all the way out here just to check on us." It was rather touching, really. Ziva gives the kid a tip, offers a brownie from the tray of them she made earlier, and sends him on his way.

At least if they are in trouble, someone will notice.

[One of the many responsibilities of a trainer is to keep one's Pokemon out of trouble. Failing that, the responsibility of a trainer is to make one's Pokemon calm the fuck down after causing enough trouble to last a lifetime.

So Reid has Ellie the squirming Eevee in his lap while sitting at Albert's piano. Reid taps the keys experimentally, then launches into a soft, gentle tune. This is sort of his last resort.

And luckily, it seems to be working. Ellie slowly stops squirming, her ears perking up to listen to the wonderful noise her trainer is making. He lets out a sigh of relief, his fingers dancing across the keys, and he takes the chance to practice. It's been a couple weeks since he's played the piano.]

[This sure is a Carmen Sandiego just hanging out on the couch in the Justice Farm living room reading a book, all right.]

[Every so often, Ziva is struck by either insomnia or an idea. Usually it's the latter brought on by the former in some combination that ends up with her awake until all hours, reading or researching or just considering.

This time it's ended up with her camped out on the floor in the living room, surrounded by books--any book that she could find in the house on the topic of gardening and horticulture, a few different varieties of berry, and a cup of tea long since gone cold and bitter, forgotten as she got absorbed in reading.

...just wait, she's going somewhere with this.]

[She was full of a dual anxiety and excitement. She'd been living in this place for some time now, so she as excited to see her sister and have her with her. She was excited to show her around the new world they'd found themselves in, some place safe and beautiful and so far removed from the horror of their previous situation.

Sometimes Mio could pretend it had all been some terrible dream.]

Everyone's very nice. [She told Mayu this, talking with her as she led her up to the house] Well--Albert's pretty mean and rude, but he's just like that. I'm not sure he knows what happiness is.

[She giggled a little.

It was easy to pretend it had never happened, to repress the memories and pretend things were okay with it. Her desperation to have everything be normal helped her to bypass all the obvious clues that thing were Wrong. She didn't want to believe them, so she ignored them. Simple as that]

I'm sure everyone else will be nice though!

Edited 2013-01-25 03:32 (UTC)

[Harry's usually a quick thinker. It's part of the job description, after all — what kind of sheriff would he be if instead of acting, he stood around considering and reconsidering any given set of variables before doing what needed to be done?

(Not a sheriff at all, that's for sure.)

But when he's given time to do some considering, he takes it. He plays out situations in his mind, trying to account for every possible outcome; he chooses the best approach and reacts accordingly.

The problem, though, is that this process is so effective, he sometimes doesn't see when it's unnecessary. Take the talk he's been meaning to have with Coop, for example.

How can he try to predict any of it when he remains clueless?

And that's why, even after pulling himself back together, Harry still hasn't faced the issue, whatever it is.

That's also why he ultimately decides to throw caution to the wind and knocks on Coop's bedroom door.]

Hey, Coop? You in?

Threaded | Flat

For Reid and Mio~

open; the afternoon of january 17

open, whenever

open; whenever!

action

For Reid and Harry~

FOR THIEF MOM AND ZEN DAD

Open, about 2 am January 24th. SCIENCE DOES NOT SLEEP.