Travels in Castelia - the story so far.
- I have filled the acting void in my life with a new job, that of Statistician. It’s commission based, which seems the best option for me. A lady in the office gave me lots of questionnaires, though, which included questions like ‘What would you do with a lot of money? Spend it, save it, donate it or brag?’ I liked her questions very much.
- I found the HQ of the Medal Nutters and spoke to their boss. He asked if I wanted to know anything, so I asked him, you know, why? He rambled for several text screens about medals in a Tory bluster kind of way before saying “The details aren’t important. Just enjoy your journey!” I’m now more convinced than ever that something is desperately wrong here.
Also, I asked about the medal box and got told “The Medal Box is a box-shaped device for storing medals.” Ableist fuck. Yes, I know what boxes are. This is like the bloody bag thing all over again.
- Then I went upstairs in the Medal People’s building and found a TERRIFYING LABORATORY filled with three psychos talking about stealing Pokemon’s dreams. Definitely evil organisation. Rest assured, I will be writing a specific post on these people very soon.
- Casteliacones! Such delicious ice cream you queue for days, like in Japan when they release a new DS colour! Except everyone has apparently forgotten it exists somehow. Bet that doesn’t last. This particular myth was busted when I tried to get more, though. I bought twelve cones, and then the lady told me I’d bought her whole stock.
I’m no business person, but try making more than twelve ice creams per day? I mean, it’s ice cream, no? You can freeze it. That means if it doesn’t sell, it keeps. And then you won’t run out. Dappy as fuck, that one.
- Game Freak offices! Yay!
- And here we go. How times change. One day you’re a movie star, living the good life - or a perfectly normal life, in my unpaid case - and the next you’re scuffling about in sewers looking for a pillock with a bat. I had to team up with F Pasty for this, too. In addition to constantly shouting about his lack of forgiveness, I’ve just realised that he also keeps telling me I need to get tougher for him. Yes, you read that right. Ableist fuck. FOR HIM.
What a pricklord.
Anyway, I dispatched the Team Magma chappie with great dispatch, so now I’m training in the sewers because there’s a doctor here who keeps giving my Pokemon booster shots to revive them as needed. They’ve had so many by now that they’ll probably be immune for life. That or they’ll develop the actual diseases from the sheer quantity of weak but living pathogens being pumped into them. Oops.