[Dale Cooper had never actually expected someone he knew to appear in Johto. In some ways certainly because he was usually the singular person to which these things tended to happen - although he'd most definitely not been the only one with visions and dreams correlating to the supernatural or otherworldly, he'd been one of the few who had them with such regularity and clarity. And while being dragged into a completely different world was ... well, out of the unusual, it had made a strenge sense as time went on that he was there and not anyone he knew.]
[That's usually how it went, after all. How these things worked.]
[But naturally, Johto would always find ways to keep surprising him.]
[First with the regular missing three days, when he'd first met Audrey. He remembers it clearly, her presence and his followed bewilderment. And then, the third time, he'd met her again. She'd been different but still very much her, and as strange as it was to meet her after being away from Twin Peaks for so long, it had been strangely nice, oddly comforting.]
[Then, of course, there was last time. Two months ago. With Windom Earle and Albert Rosenfield. Cooper's still, at times, worried about the former; scared that he's actually in Johto, implausible as it is by this point. He would have said something, made himself known, sent a message and demanded the game to be continued.]
[Albert, though, he'd been sure would be there for just that window of time, the same as with Audrey. And the Little Man, when he also chose to make an appearance. The same as BOB, as worrying as that was. A glitch, as he'd learned to call it, something fractured in space and time that was momentary and unlikely to last.]
[Cooper is, of course, not quite himself right now. The fire simmering beneath his skin is palpable, but at least it's under control by now. He'd had a hard time with it, before, earlier -- had almost burnt himself out in the most literal of ways until he could get a painful grip on how to deal with the changes that had happened in him. And thanks to that, to everything that's happened the past few weeks, the many many things that's clouding his mind that he's trying to work out, just trying to work through, he almost doesn't check his gear today.]
[But he does, thanks to luck, fate, or coincidence (they're all the same connection that runs through everything, really, just known by different names), and it only takes him a second to recognise the voice rattling off on the other end of the connection.]
[Because Albert Rosenfield is nothing if not distinctive. His work is always precise and meticulous, his speech perhaps even moreso, sharp and scathing as it may be, but you can count on it to always have that certain quality to it: a superior condescending tone and the rhythm of impatience, speaking plainly of the attitude he carries and presents to others and hiding well the deeper philosophy that he chose for himself and that Cooper always felt was admirable.]
[Which can't be said so easily for his social graces, but coming from Albert, Cooper honestly wouldn't have expected anything less than the verbal abuse he's now listening to with a tired but bright grin.]
[He lets go of his many many thoughts for a little while, or at least most of them, to allow himself to just listen to the rant that he suspects will be one of all too many. Allows himself comfort from it, because while Albert is a great many things and isn't perhaps even more, he's someone Cooper considers a friend.]
[And that means a lot in a place like this. Even more given the situation.]
[Albert himself could probably use a friend himself, by the sounds of it.]
[Coop wastes little time connecting the audio. There are two reasons for that, one of which is his state, and the other being that Albert won't have to yell at the Gear if it operates mostly like a phone.]
Albert.
[And you know what? Getting to say his name is something in and of itself.]
You don't have to yell. We can hear you perfectly fine.
[audio] the tealest of deers
[That's usually how it went, after all. How these things worked.]
[But naturally, Johto would always find ways to keep surprising him.]
[First with the regular missing three days, when he'd first met Audrey. He remembers it clearly, her presence and his followed bewilderment. And then, the third time, he'd met her again. She'd been different but still very much her, and as strange as it was to meet her after being away from Twin Peaks for so long, it had been strangely nice, oddly comforting.]
[Then, of course, there was last time. Two months ago. With Windom Earle and Albert Rosenfield. Cooper's still, at times, worried about the former; scared that he's actually in Johto, implausible as it is by this point. He would have said something, made himself known, sent a message and demanded the game to be continued.]
[Albert, though, he'd been sure would be there for just that window of time, the same as with Audrey. And the Little Man, when he also chose to make an appearance. The same as BOB, as worrying as that was. A glitch, as he'd learned to call it, something fractured in space and time that was momentary and unlikely to last.]
[Cooper is, of course, not quite himself right now. The fire simmering beneath his skin is palpable, but at least it's under control by now. He'd had a hard time with it, before, earlier -- had almost burnt himself out in the most literal of ways until he could get a painful grip on how to deal with the changes that had happened in him. And thanks to that, to everything that's happened the past few weeks, the many many things that's clouding his mind that he's trying to work out, just trying to work through, he almost doesn't check his gear today.]
[But he does, thanks to luck, fate, or coincidence (they're all the same connection that runs through everything, really, just known by different names), and it only takes him a second to recognise the voice rattling off on the other end of the connection.]
[Because Albert Rosenfield is nothing if not distinctive. His work is always precise and meticulous, his speech perhaps even moreso, sharp and scathing as it may be, but you can count on it to always have that certain quality to it: a superior condescending tone and the rhythm of impatience, speaking plainly of the attitude he carries and presents to others and hiding well the deeper philosophy that he chose for himself and that Cooper always felt was admirable.]
[Which can't be said so easily for his social graces, but coming from Albert, Cooper honestly wouldn't have expected anything less than the verbal abuse he's now listening to with a tired but bright grin.]
[He lets go of his many many thoughts for a little while, or at least most of them, to allow himself to just listen to the rant that he suspects will be one of all too many. Allows himself comfort from it, because while Albert is a great many things and isn't perhaps even more, he's someone Cooper considers a friend.]
[And that means a lot in a place like this. Even more given the situation.]
[Albert himself could probably use a friend himself, by the sounds of it.]
[Coop wastes little time connecting the audio. There are two reasons for that, one of which is his state, and the other being that Albert won't have to yell at the Gear if it operates mostly like a phone.]
Albert.
[And you know what? Getting to say his name is something in and of itself.]
You don't have to yell. We can hear you perfectly fine.