bestsweater | 10 [VOICE--A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT.]

[Brock has jacked the PA system. Well...more like persuaded Nancy to show him where it is and how to work it. He knows this is probably not allowed, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and there is a public in dire need of education. How is he supposed to get information to students and faculty who probably can't work their own computers?

The result is an intercom broadcast heard all over campus--in the classrooms, the dorms, the dining hall, through speakers on the main quad. Brock figures that it's the best and most all-encompassing method of relaying his stunning revelation, but covers all his bases just in case. He records his broadcast and then (with Nancy's help) cross-posts it to an entry in his journal, along with a text transcription, just in case anyone would rather read and type back.]

[Some time in the afternoon, the speakers crackle to life.]

--'s on? Oh, okay. Thanks, Nancy.

[Throat clearing!]

Um. ~~Attention Sumabura Gakuen~~ Hi. Hello, Smash Academy. This is, uh...This is Brock Harrison, I'm one of the gym leaders here, if you didn't know that, and, um...

Anyway, it has come to my attention that most of the students and faculty are now Pokemon and. Other things. I know you are probably all in various states of disorientation and confusion, so as someone who works with Pokemon, I thought it'd be a good idea to bring up a few things. Knowledge is power.

To be blunt, the breeding mechanisms of Pokemon are much different than those of many other species. In order to avoid unexpected...ah...accidents, I've posted a list of known egg groups and Pokemon in said egg groups on the bulletin board in the student union. I recommend everyone take a look at it and exercise caution and good judgment until whatever this is wears off.

If, in the event that you find a mysterious egg and do not know where it came from, please let me know immediately. Along those lines, if anyone has any general Pokemon-related questions, I'm available in TD-34 and I have a really big dry erase board and a Ouija board and lots of Scrabble tiles. For communication purposes.

[There is a long pause. He's mumbling something to Nancy in the background.]

I am also making...a lot of Poffins. A lot. They're in baskets outside of TD-34 if anyone would like them. My apologies to those of you who have become...not-Pokemon. I wish I could be more of a help. If there's anything I can do to make life easier, like open doors or do things that require thumbs, please don't hesitate to let me know however you can. That goes for everyone.

I think that's all. Please be Pokemon responsibly. Thank you.

What? No! Okay. There's the off switch. [The broadcast cuts out.]

((OOC: The whole "broadcast/audio journal/text journal thing is basically an excuse for you to respond to this entry in whatever format you'd like, whether it is voice, video, text, or action. Post as if this is a journal entry on the network! Swing by Brock's dorm to visit and talk (or try to)! Ask embarrassing and/or inappropriate questions! Steal all the poffins! Anything goes!))

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Greeting Brock was a very angry Golduck, sloppily dressed in clothing obviously not meant for him. He cut a positively ~~Torgonian~~ ridiculous figure, with his Golduck legs bulging from too-tight camo pants, and a military jacket hanging loosely from his shoulders.

It paused for a moment, glanced at Brock's apron, and then spoke.

"BROCK. WHY AM I A DUCK!?"

Oh wait, no, it said Quack quaaaack quaack quack.

It was a Golduck. In clothes. And it was quacking at him.

"Um. Hello."

The Golduck paused for a second, expecting Brock to go on. After that awkward moment, it stepped up to Brock angrily (stumbling a little bit due to the pants hindering it) and shouted again, even clenching a clawed fist this time.

"WHY. AM I. A DUCK."

Quack. Quack. Qaaauck!

Oh. Now the Golduck was assaulting him.

"I-I'm sorry, I can't understand you. Is something wrong?"

Golgage's eyes narrowed. IS SOMETHING WRONG?!? Look at me! is what he wanted to say, but he barely stopped himself before screaming it out. Instead, he waddled over to the pile of Scrabble pieces and laid down tiles saying Y AM I A DUCK and then pointed irritably.

He had his suspicions about this guy, as he did for anyone who remained human. For all he knew those poffin things were the food that caused this horrible mess... Gage couln't help but envision Brock cackling over a stewing pot of poisonous Poffins, feeding them to everyone in the school until it was his to run. He was quite wary that Brock might be putting on a facade. If Brock tried to pull anything, giant blue duck or not, Gage knew he could handle it.

Yes. That is exactly what Brock was doing. His dastardly plan, revealed.

The gym leader held up his hands defensively. "I don't know why you're a duck. I don't know why anyone is a Pokemon. I'm sorry I can't do anything about it."

BESIDES FEED YOU POFFINS.

FIEND.

Cue eyes narrowing even further. Gage didn't trust this guy, him and his squinty eyes and pink apron. He was tempted to ask more about Pokemon, and what he was supposed to do as a giant blue duck, but he decided he would rather avoid appearing vulnerable.

Instead, the Golduck reached into his pants pocket and drew out a handgun (http://gunholsters.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/glock-23-gun-nicknames.jpg). With his other claw he pulled out a fresh clip, and began oh-so-casually reloading the gun, staring at Brock the entire time. It was obvious he had practiced reloading with claws for quite a while before coming here.

That Golduck. Was threatening him. With a gun.

A gun.

HOW DID IT GET A GUN.

"Okay, okay. There's...no need for that." Brock's house of poffins was a peaceful place, after all. Obviously trying to wear pants had cut off the Golduck's circulation to its brain. "Just...put it down, I'll try and answer any questions you have."

More like Brock's house of POISON.

Golgage kept his gun low, pointed at the ground, so as not to spook Brock too much. It felt good to be in control of a situation after spending his entire stay at this school feeling totally out of his element. Somehow it kind of figured that at the first time he felt confident since coming here, he happened to be a duck.

He furrowed his duck-brow, pondering Brock's true intentions. Either he really was innocent or he was ~~a wuss~~ an excellent actor.

The Golduck stared down at the "Y AM I A DUCK" Scrabble letters and pointed again, calmly this time.

Brock did not care where the gun was pointed only that there was a GUN and guns shot BULLETS and bullets KILLED PEOPLE.

He could feasibly answer a lot of questions. "What kind of Pokemon am I". "What type". "What moves do I know". "What are those delicious-smelling things in the basket". Of course the mysterious, pants-wearing, gun-toting Golduck would ask the one question Brock had already established as unanswerable.

"Well. You're not a duck, technically. You're a kind of Pokemon called a Golduck."

Too bad Gage is a jerk who'd rather be intimidating by asking questions Brock doesn't know.

The Golduck leaned back on its tail a bit and tried to subtly fix its maladjusted pants. Then it gestured forward with its claw in a 'go on' sort of motion.

It didn't seem like Brock was going to say anything about why this transformation had happened, but at least Gage could see what he was willing to reveal.

The mystery Golduck seemed to want Brock to continue, and he was more than happy to oblige, mostly because he didn't want to be pumped full of lead.

"Um. Golduck is a water type. It's the final evolution of Psyduck." He wasn't sure if this was making any sense to the person-turned-Pokemon. He didn't know who the Golduck actually was.

He did know, however, that those pants could not have been fun to wear. "Um. Don't you think you'd be more comfortable out of your clothes?"

Hm, okay. That makes sense, I don't know what that means, oka-- wait WHAT?

Brock's suggestion was met with a disturbed face and an outburst of enraged quacking. ~~exactly like Donald Duck~~ He was being treated like an animal (at least Gage was hoping that was why Brock suggested it)!

Enough. The blue duck abruptly stopping its shouting. This was going nowhere... it was clear that Brock didn't have anything to offer that Gage couldn't try (and probably fail) to glean off the school's journal network or the internet at large.

The Golduck looked Brock in the eye, raised its pistol, and then holstered it. With a chilling glare, it pointed two of its clawed fingers at its eyes, and then at Brock.

"Quack."

Then it. Turned around and began slowly and awkwardly waddling for the door.

10 [VOICE--A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT.]

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killed by his one weakness. bullets. from a gun.

Re: killed by his one weakness. bullets. from a gun.

no subject

I WANTED TO USE THIS ICON JUST BECAUSE