worktodo | 001 | New Bark Town

[Good morning, Johto! Today, for your viewing pleasure, we have...what appears to be the rather dark and damp interior of a Poochyena's mouth, complete with glistening teeth and a tiny smear of drool at the edge of the camera feed. Not a very decent view, but that's okay, because there's plenty of audio to make up for that — and it seems we've tuned in right in the middle of some rather belligerent ranting...]

—ow what kind of game you're playing here, lady, but I have neither the time nor the patience to stand around while some overzealous kitchen marm tries to stuff me full of animal crackers and ship me off to elementary school. I want to know who you are, I want to know where I am, and most importantly I want to know how the hell you got me here to this godforsaken boondocks in the first place. I have plenty of work to do, and I do not have time for your inane prattle. Just give me some answers so I can be on my way.

[There is some background chatter here, which careful listeners may recognize as Mom's standard speech.]

Listen, June Cleaver, I'll make this very clear: I could not care less about these Puggymans you insist on rambling continuously about. The question is simple: where the hell am I?

[More background chatter! Are we sensing a trend?]

Hn. Forget it.

[Footsteps begin to tap across the linoleum, and in response, the camera begins to shake; evidently, the owner of those teeth is trotting over to give her own greeting to this rather angry newcomer to Johto. And it appears, when the footsteps pause, that he's just noticed her.]

What do you want?

[More shaking of the camera, and then suddenly there is bright light and a whole lot of twisting and rotating as the man apparently takes the Gear out of the dog's mouth and turns it over in his hand, twisting it every which way and tapping it as he inspects it. People who get motion sickness, this is really not the video for you.]

...what is this, a toy or some kind of Star Trek — HELLO.

[And hopefully no one had their volume turned up on their gear, because the man holding it is using his Outside Voice as he addresses the microphone that is apparently about three inches away from his face at the moment.]

I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU'VE GOT SOME ANSWERS FOR ME, MR. SCOTT?

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And suddenly Twin Peaks starts looking like a teeming metropolis.

[Man, he hates it here so much.]

Don't tell me it's because everybody here gets around by dragon.

[WHY DO YOU DO THIS. WHY.]

Dream-me's got terrible taste in names. You sure it wasn't a giant?

[WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.]

_{[BECAUSE ILY]}

Positive.

[COME HERE AND RECEIVE YOUR BROHUGS™]

Gandhina.

[He's just looking down at her as she sits there, wagging her tail excitedly.]

What if it's not a girl? Or did your dreams tell you it would be, too?

Yes.

In the dream you were here with her.

_{[He'd gotten to know her quite well, all things considered. And get reacquainted with Albert himself.]}

[And yet again, if it were anyone else but Coop...]

So what'd I do in this dream of yours?

[He's not saying he believes it. But Coop's dance on the rim of the volcano led them to BOB's host before, and maybe whatever prophecy he's coming up with now...who knows. Maybe it'll give Albert some idea of what he's supposed to be doing right now.]

_{[He frowns on his end - the details are fuzzy, especially when he's still trying to control a quite literal fire in his blood. But it comes to him slowly, and he says them out loud as they do.]}

You brought me chocolate.

_{[He sounds sort of bewildered at that detail himself, although still certain that it was there. Then, of course, is the most important thing.]}

And Gandhina hunted for owls.

Did I hide it in your locker with a note signed "Your Secret Admirer", too?

[He's just kind of shaking his head, and while Coop can't technically see that, he probably knows Albert well enough to suspect that it's happening.

A moment later, there's a faint sort of patting or tapping near the microphone, and after that, the soft metallic click of what is probably a lighter.]

So you're saying she's a bird dog.

_{[Frown. No, but...]}

I think you were searching me.

_{[... cause that doesn't sound odd at all. It comes back to him with sudden clarity though, the reason why, and he's quiet for a moment but decides not to let Albert in on Windom being there too - not yet.]

[Alright, bird dog, apparently.]}

I'm saying she's quite intelligent and that I believe the two of you will get along.

Searching you?

[Well, he's certainly not about to let that go. Searching implies looking for something, and his first thought is naturally that of a routine pat-down, but that wouldn't make sense (even so far as Coop's dreams ever do or don't make sense — and that's the thing, because even in all their absurdity, he's at least got a knack for dreaming in coherent narratives: she's preparing food, he took my ring).

He takes a drag on his cigarette and ponders this.]

What, did I think you were going to give me a Valentine back?

What?

Dude, dragon?

Psht.

Come on, get real.

_{[A beat.]}

Giant birds are the fave around here.

_{[GET WITH THE TIMES ALBERT.]}

[She remarks, to the guy from 1989.]

Even better. At least birds have the benefit of actually existing.

[Astrid raises an eyebrow.]

There's a road, it looks like.

Maybe that's what passes for a road by Viking standards. Not for normal people.

[And that gets a glare.]

'Normal' people?

The ones who don't believe they're mighty seafarers from a distant age.

...From where I'm standing you're the weirdo in the funny looking pajama clothes.

[What else would a suit be?]

_{[To be fair, she doesn't know that yet.]}

There's a LOT of things that exist around here that probably shouldn't, just for the record.

Might wanna get used to it.

And apparently one of the things that doesn't exist is an appreciation for the importance of specifics. You want to elaborate on that?

Soulless ghost cicadas that send you into comas.

_{[How's THAT for specific, Mr. Picky?]}

It happens fast in this world--like in a flash of light.

Yeah, just about as much sense as the fire-breathing wildlife.

[HEATHER, IF ONLY THIS FACE COULD BE CONVEYED VIA AUDIO.

No, really, he's seriously just making this face at his Gear at the moment. Can you feel his withering disdain in his silence?]

Like a flash of light. Okay, and then what?

[CLASSY, thank you very much.]

From where you're standing you can't see over the counter to order a Happy Meal. Which, by the way, is another reason why it's not the brightest of ideas to go for a merry little stroll in the woods.

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