[Oh, look. It's a Yagyuu, wiling away a rainy afternoon in the comfortable security of the Tennis Haus's library. Given the flashes of tiny paws and bits of fur that keep flickering around the video, it's likely this recording is the product of one of his many Eevees; however, he seems a bit preoccupied with his own thoughts at the moment, lounging in the window seat with a peacefully sleeping Espeon in his lap and watching the rain come down.

Here and there, other flashes of Eeveelutions go by; for anyone careful enough to take a headcount (an affair made slightly easier by the fact that most of them wearing collars of varying colors), there'll be fifteen in all — two of every variety of Eeveelution, with the sixteenth being the one drowsing the afternoon away in his arms.

After awhile, though, he leans over and retrieves the Gear from where it's gone skittering across the floor, regarding the red recording light almost blandly — it switched on, how unsurprising — before beginning to speak.]

I'm afraid I'm somewhat late to the topic of Starter Appreciation Day — it was a few weeks ago now, as I recall — so recounting any such fond memories about mine would be fairly moot at this point, I should think. However, it does pose an interesting line of inquiry, doesn't it? I've seen plenty of speculation over time about the meaning of the starters we're given, why they're the types they are, why they were chosen for us. I've seen some that have fit their trainer...remarkably aptly. And others that haven't.

[He pauses, giving his Espeon a gentle pet, and she purrs a little louder.]

I wonder if that's truly something to be contented with — the thought of being handed one's perfect match. One would think, in the grand scheme of things, it might be all the more rewarding to discover them on one's own.

[Another pause; some paws skitter in the background. And then at last, he seems to come back to his usual, more businesslike self.]

Ah, but speaking of matches, that brings me to a second question I've been considering lately. For those of us who have been designated as Breeders here, our charge is to attempt to produce the best or highest quality Pokemon possible, isn't it? I've become curious lately how people have chosen to define quality that way. Is it from a large moveset? A powerful one? An unorthodox one? And has anyone considered the more mundane practice of tracking bloodlines instead?

[He flashes the camera toward his Eeveelutions, most of whom are happily playing about the room in a technicolor whirlwind of fur and fuzzy feet.]

Speaking as someone with Pokemon whose lineage I can trace back four generations, I suppose you could say it's something of a pet interest of mine.

[Good morning, Johto! How're you liking this lovely view of...well, what appears to be a hardwood floor, some table legs, and a partially ajar closet? Seems like Yagyuu's Gear must've fallen off an end table and turned on by mistake — or, more accurately, got knocked off an end table by a careless Jolteon as he jumped from the table onto the closet doorknob to try to swing it open and then stepped on by a Flareon by mistake. Not that it shows from the recording, of course.

What does show from the recording, on the other hand, is a very nice shot of that floor, those legs, and that closet, and perhaps that's all there is to —

Wait.

There goes an Eevee, rolling a blue egg along the floor with its nose, and after some vaguely haphazard maneuvering involving padded feet and a slippery floor, it and the egg disappear behind the open door of the closet.

Curious.

About twenty seconds later, along comes a Vaporeon, pushing a light brown egg along the floor with sweeping motions of its tail, turning and pivoting with careful precision as it rolls the egg behind the open door and into the closet.

Hmm.

Another few members of this little egg parade follow shortly thereafter — a Leafeon, a Flareon, a Glaceon — each rolling their egg along, and each depositing it in the closet. Finally, a Jolteon comes along with an egg of his own, and this time he's got company with him: a curious Zorua, who comes bounding over and chatters quietly at the spectacle. With a few yips and squeaks of his own, the Jolteon goes back about his business, and like his brothers, deposits his egg into the closet.

Seemingly perplexed, the Zorua appears to consider this, then bounds around the door and into the closet himself. A few moments later, a child that looks conspicuously like a very young, childish Yagyuu (albeit one with a delightfully furry black tail) comes toddling back out, rolling the light brown egg along with it — just as footsteps begin to sound against the hardwood, and a set of legs in Rikkai-yellow warm-ups and tennis shoes appears.]

...And just what are you up to?

[The miniature Yagyuu looks up, tail wagging almost guiltily; as Yagyuu bends down to retrieve the egg, he seems to notice that his Gear has fallen (and more importantly, that the light that signals it's recording is on), and quickly reaches over to shut it off.]


[OOC: And here we have an IC egg post! There are still eggs available at the OOC roundup over here, for anyone interested in snagging one! Also, please assume this post is forward-dated a few hours to Monday morning. ♥]

[Greetings from the interior of Mt. Moon, Johto! It's dark. There's no one around and your phone is dead, or at least not on camera, save for the occasional flicker of blue noodly movement at the edges of the screen and two fluffy-looking lumps on the ground — a small but reasonable distance apart — that are probably bedrolls.

Oh, wait, there's something else of interest in this scene.


Considering there's about TWENTY EGGS piled up on top of those bedrolls.

(And a rather satisfied-looking Charizard hovering around in the background.)

There's movement from the one on the left, the shuffling squirming motion of someone groggily coming back to consciousness, and then abruptly Yagyuu sits up, coming perilously close to sending some of those eggs rolling away in the process. He looks down — ]

Lady!

[No, wait. These aren't Eevee eggs. Oh, thank Federer these aren't Eevee eggs.

He looks over at the other bedroll — ]

Nero-kun...

[And with a squeak of Air! from the Dragonair currently commanding the Gear, the feed ends.]

~
[ Some time thereafter, a text appears, accompanied by a snapshot of the eggs: ]

It appears we have some eggs to get rid of.

Please.


[OOC: Aaaaand here's the IC egg post! (The OOC roundup is over here, still with a few Charmander eggs left for anyone interested in them!) Expect responses from both Yagyuu and Nero as they work to foist these eggs off on people!]

[Hey, look at that, it's Yagyuu, for once not in the Tennis Haus (or even Goldenrod City), but instead in the slightly more commonplace setting of a hotel room, sitting on his neat, well-made bed and absently petting his Espeon with the hand that isn't holding his Gear. He's about as placid as usual, albeit possibly looking a bit more worn out than he generally tends to be; it's been a while since he did any extensive traveling on foot, and the trip to Blackthorn City isn't exactly an easy one.

He rolls his shoulders slightly, then reaches over and picks up his case of badges, flipping it open to regard his newest addition: the Glacier Badge.]

Between Pryce-san and the Ice Path, I believe I've more than had my fill of ice for a while. I wonder what sort of challenge Clair-san will pose? Someone known as the Blessed User of Dragon Pokemon ought to make for an interesting opponent.

[Still, that's a battle for tomorrow. Which means today really ought to be spent picking out what team he's going to field for that...which in turn reminds him —

He reaches over again, this time producing the two strange Pokeballs he found waiting for him in his Box at the Pokemon Center, and regards them thoughtfully.]

Still, there's this matter...

[He looks them over, shrugs, and then tosses them to the floor, half-forgetting he's still on camera as the balls erupt open to reveal...

A Flareon and an Eevee, one of whom he recognizes all too well, the other of whom he just sort of stares at in horror.

There is a pause. For a moment, all is silent.

And then begins the unholy squeaking of far too many Eevees storming the room to investigate these new arrivals.

It is perhaps a small mercy for Yagyuu's sake when Lady dismissively flicks her tail at his Gear in the midst of the squirming furry cacophony, giving it a good firm whack and managing to switch it off in the process.]


[OOC: Glacier Badge and Rising Badge are both mod-approved!]

[It may seem like an odd endeavor, wandering the snowy streets of Goldenrod in such relatively unpleasant weather, but sure enough, that's precisely what Yagyuu's doing today. It's not the first time he's gone over these streets and it almost certainly won't be the last; he's not so much exploring today as he is just walking the familiar byways, his breath making translucent clouds in the chilly air.

There's a Vulpix riding along with him, curled around his shoulders and supported atop his backpack, nuzzled in close to his neck like an oversize, furry, Fire-type scarf. If the weight or the awkwardness of ferrying her in that way bothers him, he certainly doesn't show it; his own scarf is draped light but snug from his neck to his chin, and the collar of his heavy winter coat is turned up as added protection against the cold.

He's carrying a few bags with him, of varying sizes, all unmistakably from the Goldenrod Department Store—evidently, he's been out shopping. And perhaps he still is, because at the moment he's stopped in front of the frosted glass window of a jewelry store, peering in at the display and watching the light catch the facets of the gemstones as they glitter against their black velvet backings.]

Another four days and you'll be six months old, Masako. It is strange how time flies, isn't it?

[He's speaking quietly, more to himself than the little fox on his shoulders.]

And strange, too, how much can change in seven months.

[And he seems to dwell on that, lost in thought, as the jewels gleam bright in the window and the fine mist of his condensing breath drifts and disperses in the cold afternoon air.]

[No video for you today, Johto, but there is some shuffling of feet, rustling of papers, and otherwise standard white-noise sounds of occupancy heralding you as this post first begins. There's also a light pitter-patter of padded paws across the carpet and, if one listens very closely, the faint trill of a particularly smug, self-important Espeon. That doesn't last for long, though, because soon enough there's a soft thump, and shortly thereafter Yagyuu's voice comes in—]

Lady, this is the third time—

[Another pleased trill.]

What's gotten into you lately? You've been underfoot for days, you've chased Masako, you bit Hirochii, I know you've been harassing Sudoku when you think I'm not watching—what? What is it. What are you trying to—

[Footsteps. A pause. A pause that drags on into awkward, disbelieving eternity.]

...You really felt it necessary to make your point six times over?

[There is a pleased trill from the world's smuggest Espeon, and the audio fades out; later, a text appears on the network.]

~
At the risk of attributing far too much credit to these Pokemon of ours, has anyone happened to notice them occasionally displaying motives that appear to be almost unsettlingly human in nature?