usedlaserbeam | Entries tagged with no tennis no life

[So it was always a given that one day Yagyuu's texting-under-the-counter-while-at-work-to-alleviate-the-boredom habits were going to get him in trouble one day, and apparently that day is today; in his haste to pocket his Gear and address the latest trainer to enter the Goldenrod Pokemon Center and approach the front desk, he accidentally hits the audio record button instead of the power switch.

And thus, the network is treated to the rare opportunity to eavesdrop on precisely the kind of inanity Yagyuu regularly deals with at work.]

Hey, uh...hi. Hi, there.

Hello. Welcome to the Goldenrod Pokemon Center; may I ask how we might assist you today?

Yeah! It's my rare Pokemon. I think there's something wrong with her, 'cause she keeps going out.

...I beg your pardon. Your rare — you mean your Oddish.

Hey, not just any Oddish! She's one of a kind! Uh, when she stays lit.

When she stays...lit.

Right! She's a super rare Grass/Fire type! That's why I think there's something wrong. You know Charmanders will die if their tail flame goes out? I think maybe that's like what's wrong with her, is like...her flame keeps going out, and that's why she looks all. Fainted and stuff. Can you guys help her?

[There is a pronounced, prolonged beat of silence here, during which Yagyuu is probably trying very hard to hold his expression steady.]

( Cut for References to Oblivious Cruelty to an Oddish and Egregious Failures at Pokemon Logic )

[Another, far more incredulous beat passes here, because seriously there is not enough WHAT THE HELL in the world.]

...Yes, thank you, that's precisely what I needed to know, I appreciate it.

Great! So can you help her?

Rest assured, you've told me exactly what I needed to hear to ascertain how best to help her. If you'll just be so kind as to have a seat right over there in our waiting room, I'll have Nurse Joy see to your...highly rare Oddish as soon as possible.

Oh, wow! Thanks, man! You got it, I'll be right over here.

[A set of footsteps shuffle across linoleum, and there is a brief whimper of Diiiiish as what is presumably Yagyuu's share of movement begins to rustle fabric near the microphone of the Gear. Shortly thereafter, a sotto voce mutter follows.]

Likewise, I imagine we'll be having Officer Jenny see to you as soon as possible...

[Some more shuffling ensues, and then at last the shifting and movement is enough to jostle the Gear off.]

[OOC: A few notes for this post: Italics are a hapless NPC trainer (or Rocket?), regular text is Yagyuu. He'll be answering replies a little while after this post, since he's understandably busy right now. Also, please note the cut warning! There are no graphic descriptions of anything, but if discussion of and references to an NPC trainer carelessly being an asshole to his Pokemon is discomforting to you, please play it safe and pass this post by! Likewise, if there are serious concerns, please take it up with me by PM and I'll pull the post altogether, no problem.]

There's a saying, I believe, that things both bad and good come in threes. I'm not entirely certain if I subscribe to that belief, but I suppose there is something to be said for things taken in multiples being superior to ones that stand alone. Or perhaps that's simply the perspective of someone with a particular inclination toward doubles.

Though I admit I'm not averse to singles, if there should happen to be two tennis players in the same vicinity of a court. I enjoyed our game, Shiraishi-kun — let's have another again, soon.

But on the subject of doubles, today marks the second birthday I've had the occasion to observe in Johto. By local reckoning, it seems I'm now sixteen. And it also seems a few members of my roster have seen fit to observe the occasion in a manner...uniquely commemorating that. Thank goodness Marui-kun left me Tensai Jr. upon his departure a few months ago; it appears I'll be making good use of his reserves of Sleep Powder again.

And for the sake of indulging what is almost certainly a sense of morbid curiosity, a question: do any of you, reading this, have multiples of the same species of Pokemon in your roster? And if so, what is the most of any one variety you've ended up with?

[So here's an idyllic scene for you: Yagyuu, back in Goldenrod City (wait a minute, how did he get to Goldenrod, he was just in Cerulean a minute ago—) and hanging out in the grass near the Tennis Haus, which has miraculously recovered from the wear and tear it took from the influx of garbage for this temporary weekend and looks as spiffy and well-kempt as ever. The paint job is clean, the grass is trimmed, the tennis court is spotless, and Yukimura's garden is flourishing — and currently inhabited by one rather large levitating man-eating plant, scaring off humans and animals alike who might try to trespass into the domain it's guarding.

And then there's Yagyuu himself, surrounded by a veritable swarm of seven Eevees, one Espeon, one Umbreon, and one Flareon, all of whom are happy and rambunctious and look like they may very well pick him up and carry him off if he should happen to let his guard down.

(Somewhere in the background, a Slowpoke duct-taped to a skateboard with model rocket engines attached to it goes hurtling by, making a noise that sounds suspiciously like eeeeeeeeeeeed.)

Needless to say, Yagyuu is a little perplexed.]

...Ah. How did I—

[But then he looks down again, and double-takes, because those seven Eevees have all just evolved in the blink of an eye, and he is now sporting two Flareons, a Vaporeon, a Jolteon, a Leafeon, a Glaceon, two Espeons, an Umbreon, and one very dopey Eevee who seems to have failed at evolving in general.

He's almost afraid to look away from them again, for fear that more of them might crop up.]

...It's going to be one of those days again, isn't it.

[OOC: COME HIT HIM UP! Anytime, anywhere, he's in Goldenrod by the Haus but he can easily move wherever you'd like him! COME TO ME, FOURTH-WALLERS, I WANT YOU IN THIS POST. ♥]

[To say Yagyuu is having a Very Weird Day...well, that's kind of an understatement.

To say the least.

Life seemed to be going normally enough, in the beginning; he got out of bed, cleaned his room, washed up, ate breakfast, fed the cat, and put on his warm-ups to go do some swing reps on the tennis court. Everything was going along as usual, glum though it might've been, right up until he got into position and went through the motions of hitting his Laser—and abruptly discovered that not only did attempting to hit the Laser emit a really cool sound from the vicinity of his racket, but it also prompted a soundtrack to cue up in response.

Weird.

(Also probably a good thing the rest of his team wasn't there with him, or he might've been compelled to dance. In formation.)

Life got weirder still when he finished up and went back inside to get ready for work, only to discover that not only had his usual classy coat and slacks disappeared, they'd been replaced with something a little different.

(Why is he wearing sunglasses over his actual glasses? The world may never know.)

And now, en route to work, not only has he been mobbed by a rampaging swarm of baby Eevees, nearly beheaded by what appeared to be a Slowpoke strapped to a skateboard with model rocket engines attached, and assaulted by a Smeargle who seemed prepared to stop at nothing so long as it meant getting paint on his clothes, but now he is stopped dead in front of the Goldenrod Pokemon Center.

There is an Arcanine looking at him.

He's almost willing to venture that it's waiting for him.

Yes. This is officially a Very Weird Day.]

[OOC: ARCANINE JOYRIDES ARE IMMINENT. Or just boggle at his ~~terrible~~ amazing fashion sense; double megane all the way!]

[Well, Johto, in a slight change of pace, this video is not coming to you today courtesy of PhantomCam™; in truth, it's actually sort of more like Lady's-Paw-Landed-On-The-Record-ButtonCam™, and the accidental nature of the recording shows. The vast majority of the shot shows a tilted, haphazard view of a bedroom (a very neat bedroom, an observant viewer might note), and only a small sliver actually manages to catch Yagyuu, who appears to have set his backpack down on the bed and is methodically extracting the contents.

(Every so often, this view ends up marred by what seems to be a tuft of tawny brown fur, or the occasional pink tail feather.)

Yagyuu, however, seems reasonably oblivious to being recorded, his attention fixed on the series of items he's removing from his backpack, one by one: a notebook and pen, a novel with a slightly dog-eared cover, a roll of grip tape, a tennis racket that he places aside with the utmost of care. With an Eevee and what eventually reveals itself as a Pidgeotto bustling around on the bed, he's clearly not taking any chances that it might get damaged.

This patient, deliberate ritual of unpacking goes on in silence for a minute or two, Yagyuu still apparently ignorant to the fact that he's on candid camera, when at last something shifts: he reaches into the bag and his expression abruptly turns to one of surprise and mild disgust. And when he yanks his hand back out of it, a sticky mass of purple goop (which is now partially encasing his hand) comes with it.

Eyes narrowed, he gives his hand a rather adamant shake, but the goo doesn't dislodge; on the contrary, it spreads a little wider and smiles at him.

A harder shake. It remains unfazed.

And then at last, with a long-suffering sigh, Yagyuu turns away from the camera and stalks out of sight, footsteps firm against the carpet as he apparently makes his way toward the room's door.]

Niou-kun...

[The door closes (it's not quite a slam, but it is perhaps a little more firm than was really necessary) and the Pokemon on the bed begin to shuffle around, and somewhere in the commotion another paw hits the Gear and the feed ends.]

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Yagyuu Hiroshi

June 2020

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