ratherbelocky: (Default)
Goooood evening, residents of Johto. It's a lovely, drizzly January day, and I've got a question you folks might be able to answer for me. Consider it an informal poll.

[York looks comfortable and cozy as he lounges around his house, still wearing his ugly Christmas sweater.]

Now, I understand that this place just isn't equipped to support a Grifball League, but there's got to be more to life than just hockey and baseball. Are there Pokémon Olympics or something I should tune into? And, hey, what kind of sports did you guys have back in your worlds? Were they fun? Would you recreate 'em here if you could?

[He rubs his chin for a moment, then adds:]

If anyone around Goldenrod's interested in forming some kind of low-key community sports team--y'know, something for people, not Pokémon--let me know. I might be able to help us get something set up before baseball season starts.
ratherbelocky: (Who works just like a slave △)
Okay. Okay.

[York's voice is the soft but urgent hiss of someone who's freaking out but doesn't want to alarm the people around him. The sound quality, for those sensitive to that sort of thing, indicates that he may have, you know. Locked himself in the bathroom. As one does.]

Can I lodge a complaint? I dunno who to, exactly, but I'da hoped this would be the kind of thing that got covered in the rookie's field manual as early as possible.

[He pauses.]

Turning into a werewolf, I mean.

[The pause is practically italicized. Whatever's happening to York, he is strenuously unhappy about it, and the tension rides his voice hard.]

Like, the fact that that's apparently a real possibility in this universe.

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