> Dave: Be the pied piper.
[ Oh, look! A blurry thumb! The 'Gear is fumbled for a moment - looks like someone's having trouble holding onto it, or aiming it the right direction, at any rate.
When the camera steadies, the cameraman finally comes into view.
It's a bird! No, it's a... bunch of birds! It's... a really bad scarecrow?
Actually, it's Dave Strider. Guess who left his bird swag on?
Dave is almost literally covered in Murkrows. They're clinging to his clothes, perched all over his arms and his head and shoulders, sitting on his feet.... One of them, nestled in beneath his jaw on the right side, as cloooose as she can get, is wearing an orange ribbon around her neck. She looks like she's sulking. ]
Caught one of those dog Pokémon lurking around - Houndour, I guess. They're Fire- and Dark-type.
[ He's apparently determined to pretend the crows aren't even fucking there, because when one of them pecks at the 'Gear, he just moves it aside slightly and continues in the same tone of voice. ]
Was battling with my Gyarados, but I actually had to break out Tock to knock out a couple of them before I found one that wasn't level Fuck You, Strider. We're probably lucky they're not aggressive.
[ The ribboned Murkrow on his shoulder suddenly puffs herself up and lashes out at her neighbour, scattering a few crows for all of twenty seconds. They settle back down, with Dave's Murkrow looking unhappier than ever.
A few crows are lifted in front of the camera as he raises his left arm. If you're watching closely, he reaches up to scratch lightly at his Murkrow's talon. ]
And I'm pretty sure I saw a Gengar earlier. Those weren't around here before.
[ This is effectively a query: anyone know what's going on?
Before he can actually ask, though (if he was even going to), a bird on his left shoulder makes a grab for his shades. Dave jerks his head away, and his own Murkrow snatches at the sunglasses from the opposite side.
The 'Gear clatters to the ground, landing faceup and with an excellent, if fleeting, view of a crow flying off, an orange ribbon around her neck and a pair of sunglasses in one claw. A moment later, a hand covers the camera completely, and the feed shuts off. ]
[ Feel free to approach; he's near the north edge of Goldenrod. Just don't expect him to be very friendly - or look you in the eye. ]
When the camera steadies, the cameraman finally comes into view.
It's a bird! No, it's a... bunch of birds! It's... a really bad scarecrow?
Actually, it's Dave Strider. Guess who left his bird swag on?
Dave is almost literally covered in Murkrows. They're clinging to his clothes, perched all over his arms and his head and shoulders, sitting on his feet.... One of them, nestled in beneath his jaw on the right side, as cloooose as she can get, is wearing an orange ribbon around her neck. She looks like she's sulking. ]
Caught one of those dog Pokémon lurking around - Houndour, I guess. They're Fire- and Dark-type.
[ He's apparently determined to pretend the crows aren't even fucking there, because when one of them pecks at the 'Gear, he just moves it aside slightly and continues in the same tone of voice. ]
Was battling with my Gyarados, but I actually had to break out Tock to knock out a couple of them before I found one that wasn't level Fuck You, Strider. We're probably lucky they're not aggressive.
[ The ribboned Murkrow on his shoulder suddenly puffs herself up and lashes out at her neighbour, scattering a few crows for all of twenty seconds. They settle back down, with Dave's Murkrow looking unhappier than ever.
A few crows are lifted in front of the camera as he raises his left arm. If you're watching closely, he reaches up to scratch lightly at his Murkrow's talon. ]
And I'm pretty sure I saw a Gengar earlier. Those weren't around here before.
[ This is effectively a query: anyone know what's going on?
Before he can actually ask, though (if he was even going to), a bird on his left shoulder makes a grab for his shades. Dave jerks his head away, and his own Murkrow snatches at the sunglasses from the opposite side.
The 'Gear clatters to the ground, landing faceup and with an excellent, if fleeting, view of a crow flying off, an orange ribbon around her neck and a pair of sunglasses in one claw. A moment later, a hand covers the camera completely, and the feed shuts off. ]
[ Feel free to approach; he's near the north edge of Goldenrod. Just don't expect him to be very friendly - or look you in the eye. ]