leftinbasketforfbi | 1st Genius α Video/Action for New Bark Ω

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1st Genius α Video/Action for New Bark Ω

[It takes him a bit to figure out how the hell to start the feed. When he finally does, all PokéConnect is treated to the sight of a deceptively calm man dressed in purple pants and a white shirt tied with a gray obi, the traditional psychic’s outfit. An Absol keeps pacing behind him, as if expecting him to fall over at any moment and preparing itself to catch him. Honestly, that’s because it is, since its new Trainer has had a massive panic attack that caused him to pass out once already, and Absol can sense that there will be more to come. This is going to be a long partnership.]

Morgan, if this is a prank, alright. You got me. You win the war.

[The man holds up his hands in defeat, still unnaturally calm.]

I don’t know how you did it, but you can stop now. I get it. You can make the Pokémon go away. Once again, I have no idea how you did it…

[His throat gets tight. He struggles to keep his breathing even.

Please, Morgan. Please oh please make this stop.]

But you can stop it now. I have a lot of work to do, and giving me strange clothes, asking a woman to pretend to be my mother, and trying to make me doubt my own sanity is not helping.

[Please let this be a prank. Please say he’s not completely insane.]

And you can turn off the music while you're at it.

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No, I did. [He's gonna need to give the spiel again, isn't he?] I'm, um, provably a genius. I graduated high school when I was twelve, so I already had two Bachelor's and a PhD when I was recruited into the Academy. Technically they were bending the rules for my age, but they still wanted me.

[He doesn't want to give the AND I HAVE AN EIDETIC MEMORY AND MY IQ IS 187 AND LOOK AT HOW SMART I AM talk because it always makes him feel like he's bragging when really he's just trying to provide an explanation for his position relative to his youth.] You could say I had a head start?

[Hey, man, it's cool, Albert was first in his class at Yale, BEING SMART IS NOT A PROBLEM WITH HIM. He's more just facepalming at "LOL LET'S BEND THE RULES" because come on, Bureau, there is a way and a manner of doing things and that's not it.

...On the other hand, he comes from a unit that occasionally investigates supernatural crimes, just recently dealt with a case involving a guy possessed by what is apparently a personification of evil as old as the beginnings of time, and has a best friend who regularly conducts his investigations through the assistance of prophetic dreams. So maybe he's not one to talk about bending the rules.]

Any of them from Yale? There's brownie points in it for you if you say yes.

[Yeah. At least he's not using psychics to figure things out. :| Speaking of, pay no attention to the little green and yellow bead bracelet he always wears on his wrist.

...Yale was his safety school. No, seriously, it was. So he decides to be tactful and just smiles sheepishly.] N-no, not at the time. Sorry. Is that where you went to school?

[And by pay no attention you mean TOTALLY NOTICE because DETAILS. Come on, this is what he does.]

No, I just picked it out of a hat.

[SARCASM.]

All right. Are you calmed down enough to hear the rundown on this place, or do we need to keep making chitchat about what we did on our summer vacation for another twenty minutes first?

[It's totally not a religious token from a Palo Mayombe Babalawo meant to give him protection what are you talking about

As the reality sinks in again, color drains from his face, but he keeps his breathing even.] ...I think I need to lie down, to be honest. [He's had no time to process. He needs to find a bed and curl up on it and just think. And then nap. Because panic attacks are exhausting and he's still convinced he's crazy.]

[For the love of god what is it with you doe-eyed baby agents and needing protective charms from your assorted spiritualities of choice. SIIIIIIIGH.]

No, what you need is for someone to spoon-feed you the reality of what's going on in small bite-size portions that you can chew on one at a time and make the situation look manageable instead of overwhelming. You can't explain what's going on here, and all lying down is going to do is give you the peace and quiet to start internalizing, obsessing, and ultimately concluding that you're either dreaming or crazy. Which you're not.

[Pause.]

Take a deep breath. Right now, you focus on two objectives. You go through your backpack and take inventory of what you've got, and then you find the road that leads west out of town. Got it?

[If it helps at all he doesn't know why he wears it either. :<

He's already concluded he's absolutely insane, so he'd like to just curl up alone and cope for a while, but his instinct is to listen to the dominant personality and he just plain doesn't have the strength to fight against that.

So he does as told. He takes a deep breath, then picks up his backpack and starts rifling through it.]

Alright... I have my clothes, basic travel supplies... [He takes out the Trainer's handbook. He looks vaguely ill before putting it back.] And, um... [Then he takes out a potion, then a repel, then a Pokeball.] Whatever these are. I'm guessing equipment specifically tailored for the care or handling of Pokemon--the ball is meant for catching them, right? [It's kind of weird that his hallucinations are so heavily focused on a franchise he was only peripherally aware of when he was growing up, but okay.

He doesn't wait for an answer before dropping the ball back in its pocket.] And there's some money and a rope.

[He zips up the pack again. Yang the Absol stands up, tail perking in anticipation of his Trainer actually doing something beyond freaking out.] I, uh, don't have a compass. I don't know which way is west.

Edited 2012-09-17 15:01 (UTC)

So much for the Boy Scout theory, then.

[He seems to lean in and peer at the camera for a moment, and that's because he's not actually interacting with the feed anymore; he's examining the buttons on his own Gear, reminding himself how to call up the function he wants. It's only after a minute that his attention resumes on Reid.]

Okay. First up, you're right, the ball is for catching them. Of the two others, the spritz bottle apparently has general, all-purpose healing properties — you spray the thing and it suddenly decides it's feeling better. I can't yet tell if it's some kind of amazing creature based-panacea or just the most absurd application of a placebo effect I've ever seen. The other, the aerosol can, is a lot more useful. You spray it on yourself and it repels any wild ones that might try to get near you.

[Meanwhile, Thing the Paras takes that moment to try once again to make a Daring Escape™, and the camera abruptly switches hands as Albert reaches over to grab him as he continues talking.]

The other useful tip is there's a map built into your tricorder. Follow this sequence of options and it'll call up a map of where you're currently at and where you're going. And I could sit here and wait while you do all that kinesthetic learning, but I have work to do and it's faster to just tell you that west is a dingy little footpath marked "Route 29". Take it, follow it, three days' travel later you end up in the nearest city to your current location.

Three days' travel? [Right. Yeah, he guesses it'd be too much to hope for paved roads and a car.] I've... I've never really traveled that far on foot before. Isn't it dangerous out there? I don't have--my gun isn't here. I don't have any way to defend myself.

[Yang the Absol makes a vaguely indignant sound, looking up at Reid with a clearly displeased expression. Reid looks down at Yang, his brow furrowed in confusion. What are you upset about? Stop reacting to stuff he says. You shouldn't be able to understand him.]

[Speaking as someone who patently refused to set one foot in the dark woods of Route 29 and instead grumpily waited around New Bark until someone actually flew down to pick his stubborn ass up: Reid, you're all right. Good job having a head on your shoulders. Good job appreciating the legitimate concern of potentially dying hideously in the forest by bear or other assorted wildlife.]

Yeah. People around here treat it like some kind of rookie rite of passage hazing ritual. Can't earn your stripes as a true participant in this whole damn charade until you've suffered your three days in the great outdoors.

[OR UNTIL YOU CALL UP YOUR BEST FRIEND AND MAKE HIM FLY DOWN TO PICK YOU UP but obviously that's not exactly a solution that will work for Reid, will it.]

You see anybody else around you? Safety in numbers.

[Reid would like someone to come pick him up too. ;.; ]

I met a girl named Mio. She doesn't know what's happening any more than I do, so we could probably...

[Give him a second. A shudder runs through him and he covers his eyes for a moment. Well. He's accepting it now. He's treating the hallucination like reality.

What else can he do?]

We could probably stick together. I'm still concerned about the possibility of dehydration, exposure, and wildlife, though--we have enough food that could maybe last both of us for one day, but no water, no tent, and no tools to boil water we may pass by. I don't know if she knows how to camp, but my only knowledge about it is from reading.

[Sadly, Albert is not the one with seven fliers in his party, or he might actually be tempted. BUREAU SOLIDARITY and all.]

Read the handbook. There's a section on edible plants — apparently we're all Robinson Crusoe here — that should get you through supplementing what you have. Water's got to be on the way because plenty of people before you have made that trip, and nobody's walked out with cholera or hepatitis yet, despite the fact that most of them are dumb as bricks and probably wouldn't think to boil water they found in the first place. On the other hand, you could always try ransacking Mom's. Might find something useful in there.

[He just kind of shakes his head.]

Look. Your next three days are going to be hell, there's no getting around it. Unless you want to get down on your knees and start begging total strangers for a free ride on a giant owl, you don't have that many options.

[He'd love you forever if you did, Albert. ;.; ]

I... that's okay. I like to keep my feet on the ground, thanks. [He's cool with planes, but come on. Riding birds.]

People have made the trip without fire making tools, a pot, or even just a purifier? [...Even if other people have done it, he's not comfortable with it.] I might ask the woman who said she was my mother for something. Do you--does the same woman say she's everyone's mother?

[Well, you know. Suffer bravely on, soldier. Life is hard in Pokemon Land.]

Not just people. Kids. Nine, ten years old, traipsing through the forest like this is some kind of great adventure.

[The tone very plainly indicates that he seems to think such kids are delusional. And perhaps rightfully so.]

Yeah, June Cleaver. She's got a set spiel that everyone gets. I wouldn't bother trying to make conversation, she'll just broom you out of the house before you can get anywhere.

[Can he go home now? :< ]

Wait, wait, kids? [Whoa, no, not okay.] People have been letting nine- and ten-year-olds go into the woods alone for three days? [Reid now thinks the adults who permanently live in New Bark Town are all horrible people. Where the hell is Social Services?!] That's--that's criminally negligent! And reckless endangerment of a child, depending on the legal definition here. Does that woman just sweep them out too? [Mom is a terrible mother. She should be arrested.]

[Mom is a real piece of work, he's not denying that for an instant. Granted, she's also a robot probably, so being a terrible mother is sort of par for the course.]

She sweeps everybody out. Look, I'm not saying I believe it, but there are people here who think this place is structured like some kind of game, and "Mom" is the opening act. Which would at least explain the script. And the complete lack of logic.

[A beat.]

And the fact that none of the rent-a-cops around here have ever heard of a judiciary, so the whole damn place is a police state. That's why your gun's gone, by the way. Strict prohibitions on anything even remotely close to a weapon. Which is why I'm stuck doing surgery with an oversize praying mantis instead of a scalpel.

A game? Well, I guess it would fit with the Pokemon theme, but there's a big difference between games and reality. In reality, kids that young shouldn't be going on adventures.

[Wait.]

They don't have judiciaries?! [Oh shit, that's a real problem.] So there's no due process? What happens if someone files false charges against someone else or tries to buy off policemen?

...And they're okay with nine-year-olds going out in the woods alone for days, but they're not okay with a trained professional using a scalpel? [WTF is this place even]

[Yeah, tell him about it. It's just one of the many reasons the local PD frustrates him so much. And there are many reasons.]

No due process. Which I guess is just a given when you also don't have a codified set of laws or any built-in protections for individual freedoms. Seems like the place runs on a common-sense honor system, and the police just show up every time something traditionally held as "bad" occurs. For a sweeping definition of "bad". There's only two punishments I've ever heard of getting handed down, two weeks' community service and two weeks' jail time, and from what I hear, local law enforcement likes to perceive offers of bail as attempts to bribe an officer of the law.

[Reid can tell already that this is going to be really, really frustrating.]

What is their definition of bad? I mean, by 'bad', are they only talking about things like theft, assault, and murder? Or does that also include things like homosexual relationships, insulting the government, and dishonoring one's parents? It--values change depending on where you're from and when you're born. How could they not even have an outline of what is illegal and what isn't? And what about--what's keeping an officer from abusing their power?

[Reid doesn't know how this place could possibly function.] Two weeks in jail is the worst you've heard of? But what about sex offenders and murderers? You can't just--there are some people you can't put back in society!

How about the guys who'd trick a kid of about fifteen into planting a bomb in the lighthouse of one of the seaside towns and then stand back and film the thing live as it blew so we all could appreciate the artistic endeavor. That mess went down a few weeks back now; take a wild guess which of the two ended up hiding out in the wilderness for two weeks after he got a police bulletin slapped on him, and which one got off scot-free.

[Yeah, he mad. He just a little bit mad.]

Get used to the thought that the people here don't care. Procedure's nonexistent and there's not a lot of room for gray area in the good guy/bad guy dichotomy they've got running. This place isn't a society. It's a farce, and I don't like it a single bit, but you're looking at a world half full of people who think the worst thing that can happen to you is to lose a dogfight between your critter and someone else's, and half who are all convinced they were warriors and action heroes and chosen ones back in a different life. Rule of law means nothing. It's all good guy machismo and Campbellian hero quests, and everybody's expecting a storybook conclusion at the end.

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1st Genius α Video/Action for New Bark Ω

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