where are you?

[dogissues]

Who| Shaggy and YOU???
What| Shaggy Rogers fell asleep in the car and now he's not entirely sure where he is
Where| In the D5 suite, Tribute Center Central Commons
When| A couple days before the arena
Warnings/Notes| I'll be assuming Shaggy will have his illusions corrected at some point before the second prompt, also there'll some spoilers for the first season of Scooby Doo Mystery Incorporated



[For District Five Only]

"Like, wow," Shaggy says to himself, as he takes in the floor that they'd told him to go to. "This is, like, totally not what I thought military school would be like." He'd expected more tents and helmets and buzzcuts. He brushes a hand over his own Shaggy hair reflexively. Yeah. Still there.

Maybe Scoob's nice farm would be fancy like this? He hoped it would be. Man, he missed Scooby so much already. He missed all of the gang. It really didn't feel right being without any of them.

Oh. Was that a kitchen over there? Yeah. It was. Cool. He'll just mosey on there and see if there's anything to eat.

[Open]

So it turned out that not only did they have a way cool kitchen in that "District" he'd been assigned to, but the Central Commons on the ground floor of this Training Center place also had a really great restaurant too. And because he was one of those Tribute guys, Shaggy was allowed to eat as much as he wanted there free.

So, like, even though most of the rest of this whole Tribute business stunk, the unlimited free food was pretty cool.

Especially now that he had a bowl of clam custard bigger than his head.

Comments

[dogissues]

Shaggy shrugs. "Like, Fred's dad's the mayor and, like, pays Sheriff Stone. That's probably why." He slurps down more clam custard, seemingly immune to the smell. "Like, sometimes animals can talk. Most can't, but Scoob can. So can Professor Pericles. He's, like, this parrot we know. Kind of a bad guy."

[gardienne]

"What is a parrot? But no- you 're joking me, Sir! Dogs cannot talk. Don't make fun of me!"

She works out in her mind about Fred's dad. "I suppose it is well to have enough money to pay your way from jail, whilst women like me are packed fifty, sixty, one hundred into a cell with enough room only to sit. That I do not think is fair."

[dogissues]

"Like, some can," Shaggy says. He seems really earnest. "They really can."

More clam custard goes down his throat. "That's not fair," he says. "That's not fair at all. Even Sheriff Stone never stuck more than, like, five people in a cell together."

[gardienne]

"How? But how is it possible? How can a dog talk? Is it magic?" Magic, she could accept. So many people here had magic, and it was becoming quite normal for Eponine to think about it. It seemed, to her, as reasonable an explanation as any other.

"I don't think it matters if it is fair." She tilted her head to the side, considering. "I do not think it matters to the rich if the poor rot on top of one another. But come - I would rather speak of the magic dog!" She was quite starting to enjoy that idea.

[dogissues]

"Like, I'm pretty sure, it is," Shaggy says. "Like, probably Velma would say there's some, like, scientific explanation for it, but, like, she's not here."

Which was really too bad. He missed her. Almost as much as Scooby.

"But, like, Scooby's been my dog since I was little. We've always been the best of friends. He, like, helps me eat stuff. If he were here, he'd be having a bowl of clam custard with me. And, like, when we get into trouble, we run away together. When we're riding around in the Mystery Machine--that's, like, Fred's van--he either rides in back with me or he'll ride up front with Fred and Daphne and stick his head out the window. He, like, talks the way dogs talk, so sometimes he'll start words with, like, R. Like, he calls me 'Raggy.'"

[gardienne]

"Raggy!" She burst out laughing again. "And you don't mind that people call you 'Shaggy' and 'Raggy'? I should be offended if people called that to me. But it is nice," she continues reflectively, "to still love a dog you had as a child. I used to have a cat, but even before we lost the inn, my Pa killed it and cooked it. I like to listen to your stories though. They are so lovely. You make me feel happy inside."

[dogissues]

"Like, no!" Shaggy shakes his head. "Like, I'd rather be Shaggy than, like, 'Norville.' Shaggy's me. But, like, I'm sorry about your cat. That really sucks."