Entry tags:
- albert nye the science guy,
- and why is he so angry,
- back off he knows what he's doing,
- been eating the local mushrooms,
- best coworkers ever,
- can you taste the science,
- cave johnson eat your heart out,
- dammit gandhina,
- everything is stupid forever,
- here to kick ass and autopsy bodies,
- hit the deck it's agent rosenflower,
- i'm here the day is saved,
- i've got work to do dammit,
- kinda like a mythbusters episode,
- let's do science to it,
- making labcoats sexy since 1989,
- professional at work,
- secretly kind of a geek actually,
- seriously fucking cool shit,
- shenanigans are imminent,
- talk science to me baby,
- welcome to the justice farm of science,
- ▶ saffron city
007 | Saffron City | Audio;
[Filtered to Federal Agents - Dale Cooper, Gordon Cole, Spencer Reid, and Ziva David]
[It's been about two weeks since Albert signed the lease for his house in Saffron, and they've been two weeks comprised of a whirlwind of activities. Loath as he is to give any indication that he's actually putting down roots in this godforsaken nightmare people call Pokemon Land, the fact of the matter is that he's got work to do and it's a lot harder to accomplish the stuff he wants to get done when he's trying to do it out of a rented hotel room and subject to start traveling again at any minute. Picking out a place in Saffron, therefore, was the logical solution — not only would it put him close to both the labs he'd utilized before and set him in a nice big city as opposed to a tiny boondocks, it'd also get him out of Johto proper. Given his going track record with hassling the Pokemon Center nurses, getting out of Johto was probably a wise move all around.
But then, of course, moving into a new house came with all the obligatory tedium of being in a new house, like hassling with furniture and remembering where all the doors lead and having to constantly stop what he's doing in the middle of an activity and set up some necessity or other to continue to facilitate it. This wall needs coat hangers, the table down there isn't big enough, the piano bench is pretty rickety but a makeshift folding chair sits the pianist too low for optimal performance. Shelves need to be installed. Rooms need ten times more lighting than what they originally came with. How the hell did we forget soap dishes, someone go buy about twenty of them.
That's been life for the past two weeks, but slowly and surely things have fallen into place, and it's just plain nice to be able to finish something and leave it on a shelf to sit for twenty-four hours and not have to move everything around to find a place for it and know that it'll be right there whenever he chooses to come back to it. Like this, he can start laying out a routine. More work will get done.
Not to mention, now his lab comes with a deadbolt lock and a chain, and having a designated lab at all affords him the ability to leave his Pokemon to roam the whole rest of the grounds safely while still giving him all the peace and solace he wants. Which is always a bonus.
And the work's gotten done. Which is why today, Albert is setting up his Gear onto a tripod of sorts and adjusting the range so that it adequately displays a big steel table littered with neat arrangements of petri dishes, papers, tools, and scraps of cloth, plus a lumpy pile of canvas, some assorted cylinders, and a whole lot of duct and electrical tape.]
Okay, here's what we've got.
[Going down the line, he begins holding up some sealed test tubes, petri dishes, and small metal canisters as he narrates.]
Stun Spore. Naturally produced by twenty-seven varieties of...species around here, counting developments along a given species's evolutionary line. Comes in powder form. Testing indicated that if there is a variance between the composition of spores from species to species, it's a negligible one — we're dealing with effectively the same stuff no matter which of the twenty-seven you're tangling with. This sample comes from Type Five, the unevolved coconut crab variety. Production in this type seems to be directly linked to the parasitic mushrooms leeching off his back; ever since Dummy and I took them off, he hasn't been able to make a cloud like the one he hit Gandhina with a couple months back.
Pecha Berry. More helpfully dubbed the "Poison Cure" berry. Comes with a spicy taste, though I don't recommend you use this one to flavor your chili anytime soon. Side effects on humans involve temporary inflammation of the throat and a whole lot of swelling. Fortunately for anybody dumb enough to eat one, the effects are rapid in both directions — they come on fast and burn out fast, the experience lasting roughly ten minutes all told. In the animals, though, it's a universal cure-all of poison, regardless of type. Looks like whoever came up with this place didn't feel like getting very creative — poisoning is a binary state, either you are or you aren't. The spores are the yes, this stuff's the no.
[He moves on down, retrieving a petri dish.]
So. You run across a cloud of these spores, you're at risk two ways: you can breathe it, or you can come into skin contact with it. Either way you've got a problem.
Fortunately, it turns out that there are miraculously a few bright sparks of competence in this godforsaken wasteland, and the techs at the lab over here managed to help me isolate the active neutralizing agent from the berries. Following several all-nighters that would've been completely avoidable if any of this were taking place in a location even remotely resembling civilization, we got results.
[He moves on to the canisters, motioning in particular to the spray attachment.]
Number one: poison neutralizing spray. Sticks on the skin the same way the wildlife repellant does, though we managed to get it to last a little longer so reapplication isn't as frequent a necessity. You spray it on, you hit a spore cloud, the poison's neutralized before it meets skin. That takes care of the contact.
[And then, to the lump of canvas, which upon holding it up reveals what appears to be some kind of small, muzzle-shaped mask with a clear plate for vision and a hole near the mouth where a cylinder of some variety might attach.]
Number two: We've got a mask. The problem here is that these are going to have to be relatively custom, depending on your go-to critter of choice. There's also some kinks to work out in terms of access to the mouth and jaws; you got a dog wearing one of these, you can't have it spitting fire unless you want the interior of this thing to become an inferno real quick. That said, what it can do is get a dog through a spore cloud — or any other respiratory hazard that comes in powder form.
[He picks up one of the cylinders, fitting it into the hole in the front of the mask.]
Right now we're using a particulate filter — it'll work at keeping out dust, sand, particles, powders, anything big enough for the filter to catch. It's not going to help you against smoke, smog, chemical threats...anything that comes in a vapor, so don't think you're going to be able to strap on one of these and it'll save you from smoke inhalation in a burning building. We can do a chemical filter eventually, but cobbling one of those together is going to take a lot more time and manpower than one of these. For right now, this is what we've got.
[He turns slightly and whistles; a moment later, the sound of doggy nails clacking against a floor can be heard, and the happy whuffling of a pet that's excited to see its owner. When his Poochyena arrives, Albert proceeds to bend down out of camera range for a few minutes, then reemerges and plucks the camera off its tripod so he can give the video a clear view of Gandhina, now equipped with mask.]
So between this — [He holds up the spray canister.] — and this, what we're looking at right now in terms of preventative measures is this.
[Still holding the camera, he proceeds to thoroughly spray Gandhina (and mask) down with the contents of the canister, then gives it a few seconds to settle in before uncapping one of the test tubes of Stun Spore and shaking it liberally over her head and back.
And Gandhina, seemingly unfazed, simply wags her tail happily and tosses her head from side to side, apparently more affected by the odd feeling of the mask than the fact that she's just been dusted with poison spores that once knocked her cold.
The demonstration finished, Albert turns back to the camera.]
So that's where we're at.
[And with that, the recording ends.]
[/Filter]
~
[The voice on the audio here is rapid and succinct — Albert in his natural state.]
Three things. Number one, I thought the special-delivery egg thing was bad enough, but now it looks like we've graduated into the post-hatched ones, too. Let me make this clear: this is not a foster home. So if you're one of the dunderheads whose animal went missing lately, I'd suggest you make getting your butt down to the lost and found a priority right about now. There's a couple here that might be yours, and I'm not planning on playing babysitter forever.
Number two: For anybody looking to make a quick buck, you find me one of these things —

— and we'll talk bounty for it.
And number three: while I realize this is asking a lot of a world where the application of physics itself occasionally depends on whether or not you've got a piece of plastic clipped to your coat, is it even possible to get an actual turkey around here, or am I going to have to go make do with serving up some kind of fire chicken or psychic goose next week?
[It's been about two weeks since Albert signed the lease for his house in Saffron, and they've been two weeks comprised of a whirlwind of activities. Loath as he is to give any indication that he's actually putting down roots in this godforsaken nightmare people call Pokemon Land, the fact of the matter is that he's got work to do and it's a lot harder to accomplish the stuff he wants to get done when he's trying to do it out of a rented hotel room and subject to start traveling again at any minute. Picking out a place in Saffron, therefore, was the logical solution — not only would it put him close to both the labs he'd utilized before and set him in a nice big city as opposed to a tiny boondocks, it'd also get him out of Johto proper. Given his going track record with hassling the Pokemon Center nurses, getting out of Johto was probably a wise move all around.
But then, of course, moving into a new house came with all the obligatory tedium of being in a new house, like hassling with furniture and remembering where all the doors lead and having to constantly stop what he's doing in the middle of an activity and set up some necessity or other to continue to facilitate it. This wall needs coat hangers, the table down there isn't big enough, the piano bench is pretty rickety but a makeshift folding chair sits the pianist too low for optimal performance. Shelves need to be installed. Rooms need ten times more lighting than what they originally came with. How the hell did we forget soap dishes, someone go buy about twenty of them.
That's been life for the past two weeks, but slowly and surely things have fallen into place, and it's just plain nice to be able to finish something and leave it on a shelf to sit for twenty-four hours and not have to move everything around to find a place for it and know that it'll be right there whenever he chooses to come back to it. Like this, he can start laying out a routine. More work will get done.
Not to mention, now his lab comes with a deadbolt lock and a chain, and having a designated lab at all affords him the ability to leave his Pokemon to roam the whole rest of the grounds safely while still giving him all the peace and solace he wants. Which is always a bonus.
And the work's gotten done. Which is why today, Albert is setting up his Gear onto a tripod of sorts and adjusting the range so that it adequately displays a big steel table littered with neat arrangements of petri dishes, papers, tools, and scraps of cloth, plus a lumpy pile of canvas, some assorted cylinders, and a whole lot of duct and electrical tape.]
Okay, here's what we've got.
[Going down the line, he begins holding up some sealed test tubes, petri dishes, and small metal canisters as he narrates.]
Stun Spore. Naturally produced by twenty-seven varieties of...species around here, counting developments along a given species's evolutionary line. Comes in powder form. Testing indicated that if there is a variance between the composition of spores from species to species, it's a negligible one — we're dealing with effectively the same stuff no matter which of the twenty-seven you're tangling with. This sample comes from Type Five, the unevolved coconut crab variety. Production in this type seems to be directly linked to the parasitic mushrooms leeching off his back; ever since Dummy and I took them off, he hasn't been able to make a cloud like the one he hit Gandhina with a couple months back.
Pecha Berry. More helpfully dubbed the "Poison Cure" berry. Comes with a spicy taste, though I don't recommend you use this one to flavor your chili anytime soon. Side effects on humans involve temporary inflammation of the throat and a whole lot of swelling. Fortunately for anybody dumb enough to eat one, the effects are rapid in both directions — they come on fast and burn out fast, the experience lasting roughly ten minutes all told. In the animals, though, it's a universal cure-all of poison, regardless of type. Looks like whoever came up with this place didn't feel like getting very creative — poisoning is a binary state, either you are or you aren't. The spores are the yes, this stuff's the no.
[He moves on down, retrieving a petri dish.]
So. You run across a cloud of these spores, you're at risk two ways: you can breathe it, or you can come into skin contact with it. Either way you've got a problem.
Fortunately, it turns out that there are miraculously a few bright sparks of competence in this godforsaken wasteland, and the techs at the lab over here managed to help me isolate the active neutralizing agent from the berries. Following several all-nighters that would've been completely avoidable if any of this were taking place in a location even remotely resembling civilization, we got results.
[He moves on to the canisters, motioning in particular to the spray attachment.]
Number one: poison neutralizing spray. Sticks on the skin the same way the wildlife repellant does, though we managed to get it to last a little longer so reapplication isn't as frequent a necessity. You spray it on, you hit a spore cloud, the poison's neutralized before it meets skin. That takes care of the contact.
[And then, to the lump of canvas, which upon holding it up reveals what appears to be some kind of small, muzzle-shaped mask with a clear plate for vision and a hole near the mouth where a cylinder of some variety might attach.]
Number two: We've got a mask. The problem here is that these are going to have to be relatively custom, depending on your go-to critter of choice. There's also some kinks to work out in terms of access to the mouth and jaws; you got a dog wearing one of these, you can't have it spitting fire unless you want the interior of this thing to become an inferno real quick. That said, what it can do is get a dog through a spore cloud — or any other respiratory hazard that comes in powder form.
[He picks up one of the cylinders, fitting it into the hole in the front of the mask.]
Right now we're using a particulate filter — it'll work at keeping out dust, sand, particles, powders, anything big enough for the filter to catch. It's not going to help you against smoke, smog, chemical threats...anything that comes in a vapor, so don't think you're going to be able to strap on one of these and it'll save you from smoke inhalation in a burning building. We can do a chemical filter eventually, but cobbling one of those together is going to take a lot more time and manpower than one of these. For right now, this is what we've got.
[He turns slightly and whistles; a moment later, the sound of doggy nails clacking against a floor can be heard, and the happy whuffling of a pet that's excited to see its owner. When his Poochyena arrives, Albert proceeds to bend down out of camera range for a few minutes, then reemerges and plucks the camera off its tripod so he can give the video a clear view of Gandhina, now equipped with mask.]
So between this — [He holds up the spray canister.] — and this, what we're looking at right now in terms of preventative measures is this.
[Still holding the camera, he proceeds to thoroughly spray Gandhina (and mask) down with the contents of the canister, then gives it a few seconds to settle in before uncapping one of the test tubes of Stun Spore and shaking it liberally over her head and back.
And Gandhina, seemingly unfazed, simply wags her tail happily and tosses her head from side to side, apparently more affected by the odd feeling of the mask than the fact that she's just been dusted with poison spores that once knocked her cold.
The demonstration finished, Albert turns back to the camera.]
So that's where we're at.
[And with that, the recording ends.]
[/Filter]
[The voice on the audio here is rapid and succinct — Albert in his natural state.]
Three things. Number one, I thought the special-delivery egg thing was bad enough, but now it looks like we've graduated into the post-hatched ones, too. Let me make this clear: this is not a foster home. So if you're one of the dunderheads whose animal went missing lately, I'd suggest you make getting your butt down to the lost and found a priority right about now. There's a couple here that might be yours, and I'm not planning on playing babysitter forever.
Number two: For anybody looking to make a quick buck, you find me one of these things —

— and we'll talk bounty for it.
And number three: while I realize this is asking a lot of a world where the application of physics itself occasionally depends on whether or not you've got a piece of plastic clipped to your coat, is it even possible to get an actual turkey around here, or am I going to have to go make do with serving up some kind of fire chicken or psychic goose next week?
[Video | Same Filter]
Yeah. About two weeks ago we caught the train over to Saffron City and found a place. I was in the market for an apartment, but this place had a lot more space, and we've got the beginnings of a home lab coming together out back. It's close enough to the city to cabbage off of the big labs when I need to, but a lot more conducive to getting things done than living out of a hotel room.
[Growing up in a close-knit family in a small town, it's probably only natural that Thanksgiving becomes one of those Big Deal kinds of holidays. Admittedly, Albert's in it more for the turkey than the family gossip and schmoozy togetherness, but even his perpetual cynicism will admit to a certain soft spot for a cozy house filled with warm light and happy people who presumably love each other. Enough years of that and the love and togetherness soaks into the flavor of the pumpkin pie.]
Yeah, we were big on family togetherness. Joining up with the Bureau put a damper on the get-togethers after awhile — I moved offices, ended up in different states, figured out real quick that crime doesn't take a day off to observe a national holiday. These days it's usually just me, the turkey, and a slice of pie.
[Video | Same Filter]
That sounds like a good idea. If the labs continue to restrict your access to their more advanced equipment, I could try helping you rig a substitute? My second PhD was in Engineering.
[That sounds really nice. Reid has only relatively recently began learning what that kind of love and togetherness feels like.]
Well, what are you planning on doing this year? Whether it's realistic or not, it doesn't seem like there's a high crime rate to be concerned about, and you have friends here. [Reid would hesitate before counting himself among said friends, but that's mainly because he doesn't know how Albert feels about him and he's always careful about letting people come close.]
[Video | Same Filter]
He may not believe in Cooper's psychic mumbo-jumbo, but even he's willing to tell his fellow agent to go dance on the rim of the volcano if it means the difference between stopping a murderer and letting his reign of terror continue. Sometimes it's just about what gets the job done at the end of the day.]
How soon can you get down here? Progress would go a lot faster with two of us tackling it, and some of the plans I've got in the works could use a second opinion. Particularly from someone who actually knows what he's talking about.
[READ: he likes you, bro.]
Make it by Thursday and I'll save you a spot at the table.
[Video | Same Filter]
[Wait.]
You, uh, is that an invitation? [IS HE BEING INVITED TO SPEND THANKSGIVING. IS THIS HAPPENING.
He is totally prepared for a scathing remark to the effect of 'of course not, why would you think saying 'I'll save you a spot' means 'I'll save you a spot'', but he knows that he doesn't pick up social cues and he needs to be beaten on the head with certain things before he can understand them. Besides by teammates, he's almost never invited to anything ever, and his history of being abused by people makes it his knee-jerk reaction to think that he either misunderstood or someone's playing a joke on him.]
[Video | Same Filter]
[And, you know, the scathing remark is right there on the tip of his tongue, but between the previous stammering and the relatively gloomy portrayal of prior Thanksgivings With The Reids, he actually considers pulling that particular punch.
And then he takes it anyway, because let's be real, he's Albert.]
What, you want it in writing by first-class mail? You. Get here. Pronto. Unless you've got someplace you'd rather be?
[Video | Same Filter]
sob this shouldn't be such a surprise but it is the poor sodAlthough Reid's surprise quickly recedes, because he's learning, so after the initial stumble, he takes the offer in stride.] Oh, uh, if you have a bird you can send who knows Fly, then we'll be able to figure it out. We have the badges, and there are a lot of local bird enthusiasts who can give advice.Oh, no, nowhere else. [He's still blinking a little in confusion, but with clear clarification, he knows how to react. He smiles, and it's a genuine smile.] I'll be there. Thank you.
[Honestly, it'd be kind of depressing for Albert to pull too many punches, mostly because Reid's a grown man and despite the fact he looks like Bambi and everyone wants to hug him and protect him from the world, he doesn't like being treated like a baby.]
[Video | Same Filter]
[HE IS MAKING UP FOR THE LAST TIME. FEDERAL AGENTS TAKE CARE OF THEIR OWN. SUCH IS THE BRO CODE.]
You're bringing the girl you've been traveling with, she's what, fifteen or sixteen? If the Viking kids turn up, she'll have somebody around her own age to talk to, too.
[Read: WHILE THE ADULTS ARE WORKING. LIKE ADULTS.]
[Video | Same Filter]
She's fifteen. She's also from Japan, so this would be her first American Thanksgiving. [She's probably going to gravitate towards the adults too, because she's got issues about clinging to Reid and she's probably the furthest thing you can get from a child when you're only fifteen.]
[Video | Same Filter]
[Hopefully Reid and Mio do not mind having their HEADS ASSAULTED by an overzealous neat freak cloud bird who feels it necessary to MOP UP EVERYTHING and generally groom the hell out of people. Because that is their new ride. Oh, yes.]
Even better. Something else she'll have in common with the Vikings. What kind of pie do you like? Besides pumpkin and cherry, the pumpkin's a given because it's Thanksgiving and the cherry's a given because it's Cooper.
[Video | Same Filter]
Also, oh God, Reid and Mio don't know what they're getting into.] Pie? I, uh, I'm happy with what there is, thank you. [Seriously. Reid could live with a solid block of glucose.] I could actually help you bake, if you like. It's all chemistry.
[Video | Same Filter]
[In other words, Albert's starter is roughly as much of a pacifist as he is. Go figure, Cooper's theory that they all get starters that reflect them somehow...]
Okay, let's try that again. I'm buying pie. You're going to name a flavor. I'd suggest one you like but if you just want to name one out of the blue, I'm sure as hell not going to stop you.
[...Hmmm. On one hand, help baking implies domesticity and they are grown men and what do they look like here, Betty Crocker? On the other hand...help baking.]
Just like how I'm not gonna stop you if you want to pitch in, either.
[Video | Same Filter]
You're planning on buying pie? For Thanksgiving? When you have a guy with a PhD in chemistry and zero delusions about his own masculinity? Reid knits, Albert. He doesn't mind being domestic.
He arches an eyebrow, then smiles.] Well... I really like pecan pie. In fact, when I was five, I flipped through a notebook where my paternal grandmother wrote down recipes, and she had a recipe for pecan and pumpkin pies. Why don't I come a day early and just make any pies you plan on having? [Because he can remember his grandmother's recipes, and he can think up recipes for anything else using principles of chemistry and experience baking with Garcia. Honestly, he seems a little perky at the prospect. He likes being helpful.] It's better than store-bought, and it's no trouble.
[Video | Same Filter]
[Look, just because he knows the theory doesn't mean he has to buy into it. Just like how just because he named his starter Gandhina because Cooper claimed he showed up with a Poochyena named Gandhina ~in a dream~ doesn't mean he believes it was actually a prophecy of things to come.]
Once I tried making the pies myself. My first year going it alone on Thanksgiving. Turkey came out fine, but the pies were a lost cause. I got lucky I could find a bakery open late with one still on the shelf.
[His grandma was a pie master, too. Turkey he can do, but he's never going to live up to the old lady's baking, and he'll be damned if he has a Thanksgiving without pie.]
Send me over a list of the ingredients you need and I'll make sure they're in the kitchen.
[Video | Same Filter]
That was me with the turkey. While I'm great at baking, my cooking generally leaves something to be desired.
I'll text the ingredients I need. Keep me updated on the pies you want and I'll keep the list updated. [Who knows? Maybe Gordon will want apple.]
[Video | Same Filter]
[He pauses, regarding the camera quietly before adding with just a touch of gruffness:]
You're looking a lot better. Try to stay that way.
[Video | Same Filter]
[He hasn't gotten possessed or had a panic attack in nearly a month. It's pretty awesome.
He smiles, but he leaves it at that. Yeah, he's going to do his best to take care of himself. And while he may miss his family, he finally feels somewhat equipped to deal with this new world.]
So see you on Wednesday?
[Video | Same Filter]