The Sin Within

[The gear angle is a low one, tilted up to show a kitchen counter. And a small girl who remarkably resembles Lust, perhaps seven or eight, standing on top of it and staring intently at a cabinet above her. It's open. There are various boxes of pantry type goods. And on the very top shelf, tantalizingly peeking over the edge, is a box of fancy chocolate cookies.]

[Lust is a small child. And she wants a cookie.]

[She's wearing a shirt that's been belted with a tie, in as best as she could manage to get to a dress with what she has available to her. Her hair is braided. Every so often, a blue blur covers the screen as Guttle rolls by, concerned. Henry the Espurr is holding the gear.]

[After a moment, the little girl sighs, scrunches up her face, and turns toward the gear. Or rather the Pokemon on the floor, but the direction is the same.]

I can't reach it!

[Lust doesn't look quite as put together as she normally does. She's barely wearing any makeup, and her hair's pulled up in a haphazard bun. She's wrapped in a blanket on her couch, gripping a mug of tea, with her shiny houndour and ninetales curled up with her. This is an entirely new experience for her, and not a pleasant one.]

Everything hurts and I can barely breathe. I had a slight headache last night, when I woke up I felt as though a Snorlax spent the night lying on me.

[And she thinks she may have a fever, but she hasn't worked up the courage to take her temperature yet. Fevers are never good.]

It hasn't gotten any better. Can I take something for this at home, or do I need to haul myself to one of those indistinguishable nurses?

[Lust looks clearly irritated, despite attempting a Publicity Smile. Not by the announcement she has to make, today has not been the best of days. For anyone, it seems like.]

I realize we're in the midst of some strange minor crisis again, but I have some news regarding the little radio show we put together. Despite just starting, we've lost our sound editor and I'm afraid until we find a new one, there will be no more shows.

I expect this little broadcasting break will be temporary and brief.

[Her smile fades finally.]

And has anyone figured out what's going on with this swarm? One of them ruined my afternoon.

[Lust's expression is thoughtful when she flicks on her 'gear, the device propped on a coffee table in what looks like a living room. She's settled on her couch, a stack of books visible next to her.]

Indulge my curiosity...

Does anyone else come from a world where the predominant entertainment is radio? Much as I enjoy television and films, I miss a good radio drama. There's something to be said for allowing the imagination to fill in the pictures.

[The video feed shows Lust sitting on the kitchen floor, in her black sweats, hair pulled back. She's been practicing her solo act with Guttle, and it's the ridiculously large and food loving Spheal that is on her mind at the moment.]

...so how large is too large for a Spheal?

[Lust has been drinking. She doesn't usually indulge to the point where mildly tipsy starts heading to drunk, but it's been an emotional week and two drinks turned into three until she's fiddling with her gear with a half empty wine bottle on the table beside her and a full glass in her hand.

Probably not the best time to flip on the record function and put out a general message.]

Why do emotions have to play such a ridiculously large part in daily life? They're nothing but organic chemical reactions. You mix sodium bicarbonate and acetic acid and get fizzing, bubbling carbonic acid. It's the same damned thing, at the most basic level. Chemicals interact with other chemicals and cause a reaction.

But the molecules that give birth to emotional feeling...they're never dormant. They're never inactive. They're always combining and breaking apart and firing off signals that we have no choice but to be ruled by. Human beings are like a single chemical in that way, one that reacts in a most volatile manner to every other substance and stimulus it encounters.

The sheer number of emotions a single person experiences in a single day... it's overwhelming. And like all chemical reactions, prone to change drastically the moment something new is introduced. The simple act of going from content to frightened or angry or even irritated is enough to interfere with daily life.

That seems like a detrimental design flaw, to me.

[The video that suddenly pops up shows part of a tree and a bit of grass at first. Then a large Spheal fills the picture.

A Spheal in smoky eye shadow and as much lips as Lust managed to draw on with liner and lipstick. He looks immensely pleased with himself, and greets the viewing audience at large with a long, low, happy sounding 'spheeeaaaaaal' as he shows off the fancy face paint his trainer has been kind enough to let him wear again.

It takes all of a handful of seconds before Lust realizes what Guttle's up to, and she rushes in to grab her gear. She image shifts and wobbles for a moment before Lust's own face is visible.]

Guttle, what are you doing? Is this on?

[Yes. Yes it is. Her gaze shifts off screen, to give Guttle an exasperated look.]

And broadcasting to everyone, I see. I hope you're happy with yourself.

[Back to the screen.]

Don't anyone encourage him.