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[Howard figured out from ChatRoulette years ago that setting up the camera slightly beneath him makes him look taller, and as such he finds a rock to set it on out in the woods. He casts a wary glance at the Sneasel prowling around on all fours a few feet away, out of the frame, then turns the Gear on.

He has dark circles under his eyes and keeps glancing at the sky as if checking to make sure the sun hasn't set. He clearly hasn't slept yet today.]

Uh, hi, guys. I guess you're all more used to these kinds of things than I am-

[He's interrupted as the Sneasel hops up on the rock and pushes the Gear onto the ground. To those watching from the outside, the camera lens is suddenly obscured by a rather detailed and up-close view of the grass. There's the sound of Howard swearing at his starter and the camera pans again; it's in Howard's hands now, and he's aiming it at the Sneasel, which is now licking between its foot-claws innocently.]

Are Pokémon usually dangerous? I kind of got saddled with this...cat weasel mall-goth thing. And I don't know how smart it is. I mean, it looks dumb as a sack of hair- [the Sneasel's ears flatten] but I'm pretty sure it knows when I'm talking smack about it. And ever since I called it an oversized fluorescent bunny I've been worried that it's going to shank me as soon as I turn my back on it.

Get a look at these claws it's got...

[The camera on the PokéGear zooms in to get a good, good look at the Sneasel's long, shiny, stabby claws. Then Howard turns the camera back on himself.]

So my question is, is it safe for me to go to sleep or should I get the heck out of Dodge first?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh, give me a break. [What is Heather, a school counselor? Is this going to be another lecture on how he needs to work on his positive listening skills?] I get all my stuff ganked from me, dumped in this town, told to go walk through the woods that supposedly has wild animals that shoot poison and mind beams, and I'm supposed to let a weird little gothweasel use the only stuff I have to my name?

[Howard would totally steal someone else's too. Maybe it'll be a bonding experience!]

Edited 2013-03-04 22:39 (UTC)

_{[Hardly-- she HATES school counselors. ... Or at least the ones at HER school. But preachy is as preachy does, it's true.]}

Fair enough, fine. I'm just givin' you some advice though.

That goth weasel thing is probably the most valuable thing you OWN right now. Don't waste it, yeah? Be nice to it and it might save your butt somewhere down the line.

I'm listening, really. [He may not act like it, but he does at least pay attention - you never know when advice is going to save your life.]

Okay, dumb question number two. How do I...be nice to it? I mean, besides not yelling at her. I never owned a pet or nothing, but my friend's dog never seemed as bitchy as Rations here.

_{[Well I-- .... wait, what.]

[Heather stops and sort of just stares at him for a moment.]

[Because... wow, she never had any pets either and she still like... was able to get the hang of it relatively quickly.]}

... Uh. So like. Okay. I'm just gonna assume you were raised in like... the void. Or like, never saw Bambi or something.

Try feeding it.

Yeah, the guy earlier said I should give it berries. But cats don't eat berries, everyone knows that.

[He's clearly frustrated, and being snotty more out of that than anything. Scared, disoriented and alone in the woods with wild animals that may or may not try to kill him - really, it's fucking perfect out here. He chews the corner of his tongue and frowns.]

And I'm more of an Oliver & Company kid anyway.

Just about everything here is omnivorous in a pinch. Try the berries.

_{[... Then she pauses for a moment.]}

... And by 'try', I mean try feeding them to HER.

Not try them yourself.

Don't do that.

Bad things will happen if you do that.

[Given that Howard's eaten some things that can hardly be considered food - like a sponge, candles, shampoo, part of a shoe and shredded paper - out of pressing, starving hunger, he can't really disagree wth that statement.]

Bad things like 'tripping balls' or bad things like 'Howard has died of dysentary'? Because the former could be kind of useful on, like. Other people.

Bad like sitting on the toilet six hours later going "OH MY GOD IT'S FIVE AM WHY WON'T MY ASS STOP".

_{[... And tripping balls, that happens too.]}

Man, that's some Oregon Trail shit.

Literally.

So supposedly I'm supposed to catch more weird needy animals too? [Clearly, Howard thinks this is all frigging stupid.] Like, as some kind of weird database project? Do we actually get paid or is this one of those things where you get compensated in feel-goods?

Neither, really.

More like that's just how society here works and we're expected to integrate.

Speaking as someone who was used to fending off nasty wildlife with whatever's on hand, here is not a place you'll want to get caught without at least ONE magical superpowered animal of your own. Beating housecat-sized purple rats off with a big stick will only help you out for so long.

...

[The sad thing is, this is still a step up from home.]

Right. Guess I better find berries and give Rations...I don't know, a back massage or something. Do Snizzles like that? I'm assuming you got something less bratty for your first magic superpowered animal.

I'd avoid giving a massage to ANYTHING that doesn't like you and has claws that big, but food's a start.

... And, uh.

Well.

_{[The camera's view shifts-- there's just dizzying colors for a moment or so, and then it settles on...]

[... Well, a heaving mass of cream-colored fluff, which proves to be the stomach of a very large, rather fat Growlithe as the view zooms out a little.]

[A Growlithe that's lying flat on its back, legs all askew, and long pink tongue flopped out of its mouth.]

[Say hello to the majestic Cujo.]}

[Howard blinks at that.]

So. Can I have one of those instead?

[Because a guard dog sounds so much nicer than a ratweasel with grappling hooks. And Cujo looks like he'd be easy to get along with - rub his belly, pet him, uh, do pet ownery things.]

Believe me. You don't want him.

He smells and he hogs the bed.

... And lights things on fire.

_{[As if sensing that he's being talked about, Cujo lifts his head. One of his ears is flipped over the wrong way. He starts panting happily.]}

Oh. Well. Yeah, that's inconvenient.

Who are you, by the way?

_{[The camera flips back around to Heather, wobbling a little until it's set down.]}

Name's Heather.

And that ugly orange thing is Cujo.

Wow, and I thought my name for my starter was mean.

[Shut up 'Cujo' is totally more rude than 'Emergency Rations'.]

Let's just say that Cooj and I didn't exactly start off on the right foot.

_{[Heather knows good and well that it's a mean nickname (although... 'Emergency Rations' is a bit of a doozy, ouch.) buuuut it kind of stuck. ... And fortunately Cujo is too stupid to even really know that it's mean.]}

But he started answering to it and it's sorta too late to change it now.

Well, I guess if you guys can get along...

[He doesn't look certain, largely because Cujo looks like a big fluffy dog and not a living ice pick.]

I'll let you know how it goes. And if I don't, it's because she's turned me into a shish kebab.

_{[Emphasis on the BIG.]}

Gotcha. Well, good luck and all that.

If you make it to Cherrygrove, say something to let the network know you're alive, will ya?

Will do. And don't worry, I'm generally pretty good at the not-dying thing.

Good, that makes two of us.

Later!

_{[HEATHER OUT.]}

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