Heather Mason (
foolishwren) wrote2010-11-27 10:29 am
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Entry tags:
- action,
- adventure time,
- all phobias: engage,
- bad memories,
- bitch be trippin' balls,
- boss fight,
- epic fail,
- event,
- fear for the flesh,
- fourth wall,
- fucking fuckity fuck,
- goldenrod city,
- goldenrod department store,
- growlithe,
- i've got a bad feeling about this,
- ic,
- image attached,
- it came from the black lagoon,
- it is a mystery,
- kshshhhhhhssfrrrzzzhhzhzlshhhshhkzfffffl,
- officially freaked-out now,
- what is this i don't even
[Action in the ~*~Goldenrod Department Store~*~] FOURTH WALL EVENT POST
[OOC: HI GUYS. As per usual with my TL;DR event posts, reading this is more or less optional. All you need to know is that Heather's in the Goldenrod City Department Store, and that you are free to bother her in ANY WAY YOU SEE FIT, anywhere in the store.
Posts on my end might be a little slow, but I AM online and will be replying to every tag!
Out-of-game dudes, welcome to Route for the weekend! I hope you enjoy your stay, and hope that maybe we'll be snagging a few of you for good. ;)]
[Well, Saturday came, and despite the injuries and wreckage accumulated at the Department Store from the aftermath of that robbery, a big mall can't staff itself! As such, the employees have all been respectfully ordered to come back and help with cleaning things up, because god forbid they close the store for a few days!]
[And so, wearing her stupid little employee uniform, a tired Heather got up early with her newly-recovered Pokemon in-pocket (she didn't normally take them to work with her, but given the events there, she was feeling less confident about the prospect of being without them in case of an emergency. And besides, she sort of wanted to spoil them a little bit for all they'd been through), and made her way morosely to the big shiny building.]
[The whole way, Cujo pranced and gamboled around her, completely oblivious to his Trainer's sour mood.]
[She shoved the revolving door a little harder than necessary and went through it, taking care not to let the simple-minded Growlithe get stuck in the turnstyle.]
[And gueeeessss who was right there waiting in the lobby for her, surrounded by bustling janitors carrying around busted vending machines and sweeping up rubble?]
ABOUT TIME YOU SHOWED UP!
BACK IN MY DAY, SNOTTY KIDS WHO TOOK TOO MUCH TIME OFF OF WORK WERE FLOGGED AND PUBLICLY HUMILIATED!
.... And back in your day, the elderly fell behind and got eaten by saber-toothed tigers...
WHAT WAS THAT?!
Ugh... nothing...
I'VE HAD ABOUT ENOUGH OF YOUR LIP. MY DELICATE HEART CANNOT ABIDE SUCH DISRESPECT. GO HELP THE JANITORS ON THE SECOND FLOOR BEFORE YOUR INSOLENCE BEGINS TO ENDANGER MY HEALTH.
Yes, ma'am...
AND GET THAT FILTHY MUTT IN A POKEBALL IMMEDIATELY!!
[Making a sour face, Heather promptly flipped the old bat off as she went huffing away to scream at someone else who didn't deserve it.]
Don't listen to 'er, Cooj. You might be a filthy mutt, but she's a bitch and that's ten times worse. We gotta stop at the laundry room first. I'll let you chew on one of her skirts.
[Cujo panted up at her happily, having absolutely no idea that the supervisor had called him anything, and promptly walked into a potted plant because he wasn't watching where he was going.]
[The employee laundry room yawned ominously away from the doorway, its gray-green basement lights buzzing in that ugly way that old, out-of-date electronics that no higher-up has felt necessary to replace so often do. The gaps between the tiles here were always wet, and filled with that gritty mush that resulted when bits of powdered laundry detergent spilled onto a damp floor and was allowed to sit. The whole place smelled like stagnant water from the machine in the corner that was always broken and filled up with cloudy water that nobody bothered to drain for weeks.]
[Old uniforms were strewn across the floor like corpses of long-forgotten staff members who had been trapped down here and died horribly.]
... Same old, same old...
[Heather sighed and stepped in, her boots skidding slightly on the soapscum-covered floor.]
Don't eat anything I don't tell you is okay, Cooj.
[She leaned over the bin of clean uniforms, digging around in it with still-bandaged arms. She needed a new hat and didn't fancy getting screamed at for not having one if she was caught without it on the job.]
Jesus, there can't be like fifty thousand clean shirts and no hats...
[Then she stopped and looked over her shoulder, brows furrowed. Cujo was standing stiffly behind her, his creamy hackles raised and normally-happy brown eyes wide and staring. A low, unsettled growl was drifting out of his throat and his stare was settled firmly on the employee lockers across the room. Swallowing, Heather withdrew from the bin slowly.]
... What is it, boy?
[The growl increased in volume, and Heather frowned worriedly, following his gaze.]
[The source of his anxiety became clear instantly.]
[The door to Locker no. 9 was rattling gently, occasionally thumping. There was something inside it. Trying to get out.]
[The hairs on the back of Heather's neck stood up.]
[... It's... it's deja vu all over again...]
[The rattling was replaced by an insistent, metallic banging. Heather gulped, and reached out to pick up a nearby metal laundry basket.]
Stay here, Cooj...
[Slowly, warily, she approached the locker. As though sensing her nearing presence, the banging became louder and more violent. Adamant. Biting her lip, Heather reached out with a bandaged hand... and opened the locker.]
--AAAUGH!
[The laundry basket went clanging to the floor as Heather fell backwards, knocked onto the damp, gritty floor as whatever was in the locker came lunging out at her like a desperate predator, barreling its warm weight into her chest and knocking her off-balance. Cujo erupted into a frenzy of barking and whimpering, knocking over the laundry bin as he turned in alarmed circles.]
[Heather thrashed on the floor, throwing the attacker off in the process and struggling to sit up defensively, teeth bared.]
I-- GET OFF! I'LL-- You-- .... uh. .... Huh?
[The attacker wagged its little cinnamon-bun of a tail, the speaker on its headphones giving out a cheery little crackle of static.]

ARF!
Posts on my end might be a little slow, but I AM online and will be replying to every tag!
Out-of-game dudes, welcome to Route for the weekend! I hope you enjoy your stay, and hope that maybe we'll be snagging a few of you for good. ;)]
[Well, Saturday came, and despite the injuries and wreckage accumulated at the Department Store from the aftermath of that robbery, a big mall can't staff itself! As such, the employees have all been respectfully ordered to come back and help with cleaning things up, because god forbid they close the store for a few days!]
[And so, wearing her stupid little employee uniform, a tired Heather got up early with her newly-recovered Pokemon in-pocket (she didn't normally take them to work with her, but given the events there, she was feeling less confident about the prospect of being without them in case of an emergency. And besides, she sort of wanted to spoil them a little bit for all they'd been through), and made her way morosely to the big shiny building.]
[The whole way, Cujo pranced and gamboled around her, completely oblivious to his Trainer's sour mood.]
[She shoved the revolving door a little harder than necessary and went through it, taking care not to let the simple-minded Growlithe get stuck in the turnstyle.]
[And gueeeessss who was right there waiting in the lobby for her, surrounded by bustling janitors carrying around busted vending machines and sweeping up rubble?]
ABOUT TIME YOU SHOWED UP!
BACK IN MY DAY, SNOTTY KIDS WHO TOOK TOO MUCH TIME OFF OF WORK WERE FLOGGED AND PUBLICLY HUMILIATED!
.... And back in your day, the elderly fell behind and got eaten by saber-toothed tigers...
WHAT WAS THAT?!
Ugh... nothing...
I'VE HAD ABOUT ENOUGH OF YOUR LIP. MY DELICATE HEART CANNOT ABIDE SUCH DISRESPECT. GO HELP THE JANITORS ON THE SECOND FLOOR BEFORE YOUR INSOLENCE BEGINS TO ENDANGER MY HEALTH.
Yes, ma'am...
AND GET THAT FILTHY MUTT IN A POKEBALL IMMEDIATELY!!
[Making a sour face, Heather promptly flipped the old bat off as she went huffing away to scream at someone else who didn't deserve it.]
Don't listen to 'er, Cooj. You might be a filthy mutt, but she's a bitch and that's ten times worse. We gotta stop at the laundry room first. I'll let you chew on one of her skirts.
[Cujo panted up at her happily, having absolutely no idea that the supervisor had called him anything, and promptly walked into a potted plant because he wasn't watching where he was going.]
~*~
[The employee laundry room yawned ominously away from the doorway, its gray-green basement lights buzzing in that ugly way that old, out-of-date electronics that no higher-up has felt necessary to replace so often do. The gaps between the tiles here were always wet, and filled with that gritty mush that resulted when bits of powdered laundry detergent spilled onto a damp floor and was allowed to sit. The whole place smelled like stagnant water from the machine in the corner that was always broken and filled up with cloudy water that nobody bothered to drain for weeks.]
[Old uniforms were strewn across the floor like corpses of long-forgotten staff members who had been trapped down here and died horribly.]
... Same old, same old...
[Heather sighed and stepped in, her boots skidding slightly on the soapscum-covered floor.]
Don't eat anything I don't tell you is okay, Cooj.
[She leaned over the bin of clean uniforms, digging around in it with still-bandaged arms. She needed a new hat and didn't fancy getting screamed at for not having one if she was caught without it on the job.]
Jesus, there can't be like fifty thousand clean shirts and no hats...
[Then she stopped and looked over her shoulder, brows furrowed. Cujo was standing stiffly behind her, his creamy hackles raised and normally-happy brown eyes wide and staring. A low, unsettled growl was drifting out of his throat and his stare was settled firmly on the employee lockers across the room. Swallowing, Heather withdrew from the bin slowly.]
... What is it, boy?
[The growl increased in volume, and Heather frowned worriedly, following his gaze.]
[The source of his anxiety became clear instantly.]
[The door to Locker no. 9 was rattling gently, occasionally thumping. There was something inside it. Trying to get out.]
[The hairs on the back of Heather's neck stood up.]
[... It's... it's deja vu all over again...]
[The rattling was replaced by an insistent, metallic banging. Heather gulped, and reached out to pick up a nearby metal laundry basket.]
Stay here, Cooj...
[Slowly, warily, she approached the locker. As though sensing her nearing presence, the banging became louder and more violent. Adamant. Biting her lip, Heather reached out with a bandaged hand... and opened the locker.]
--AAAUGH!
[The laundry basket went clanging to the floor as Heather fell backwards, knocked onto the damp, gritty floor as whatever was in the locker came lunging out at her like a desperate predator, barreling its warm weight into her chest and knocking her off-balance. Cujo erupted into a frenzy of barking and whimpering, knocking over the laundry bin as he turned in alarmed circles.]
[Heather thrashed on the floor, throwing the attacker off in the process and struggling to sit up defensively, teeth bared.]
I-- GET OFF! I'LL-- You-- .... uh. .... Huh?
[The attacker wagged its little cinnamon-bun of a tail, the speaker on its headphones giving out a cheery little crackle of static.]

ARF!
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[A giant pillar of fire.]
BEHOLD THE METATRON, HERALD OF THE ALMIGHTY AND VOICE OF THE ONE TRUE GOD.
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[So if you guessed that Heather's reaction to Metatron suddenly appearing in the laundry room is to SCREAM and grab the fire extinguisher, you're right.]
[KKSHSHHHHHHHHHKKHSHSHHHHHHHHHHHH!!]
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Sweet Jesus, did you have to use the whole can?
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Wh-- ... where-- .... who the HELL are YOU?!
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[He grabbed a shirt from a stack of laundry and started using it as a towel to dry off his clothes.]
Do you drench everyone who walks in in flame-retardant chemicals? No wonder you're single.
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And-- ... [HEY.] What if I'm HAPPY single?!
..... How the hell would you know if I'm single or not?! I might have a boyfriend!
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[He dabbed at his clothes in irritation.] I swear, you bottom-feeders...
You might, but you don't. The lives and actions of every human is well documented in Heaven. And would you look at my coat!
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... Okay, dude, if Heaven documents the lives and actions of every human, you'll know good and well why I wouldn't exactly trust booming voices coming out of pillars of fire and talking about God, mmkay?
I'm not sorry.
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[He tossed the damp shirt aside.]
[It was about time he got a better look at this human and figured out what she was going on about.]
Now, let me see--
[Angels could tell things just by looking at a person. And what he saw there wasn't something that he was expecting to see.]
Good Lord.
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.... Good lord what?
[She takes a step back.]
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[He can see it. And he was pretty damn sure that he wasn't supposed to see anything like it for a while now.]
[And that it was supposed to be a boy, and there should have been a hellhound somewhere in the equation. But souls didn't lie, and dear God, the soul this girl had got.]
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[She spreads her arms a little, raising a brow.]
I'm a clerk.
Can I direct you back up to the main lobby and OUT of the employee's only area?
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[The Antichrist. Nobody else had a soul like that.]
[But... not the Antichrist. There was something different about her. He wasn't sure what it was yet, but it was his damn duty to find out.]
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... Y'know, I totally used your Seal once to save the world.
Twice, actually.
Didn't work so well the second time around.
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[Bit weird when the Antichrist-girl said she was using his seal, though. To save the world, no less.]
Where did you get my seal from?
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Drew it, the first time.
Then the other time, I took it from its protector. ... So-called protector, anyway. I think he was just a self-righteous freak.
[She folds her arms.]
So WHAT exactly do the records say that I am? If they even exist?
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[Heaven tended to take notice of any Antichrists springing up. It was kind of, you know, important.]
I know what it would say, though.
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Yeah, well, Hell and I aren't exactly bros, so...
Always DID wonder where the fuck you lot were when I needed help, though.
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[God would have appreciated it. He had a hell of a sense of humor.]
Whatever it was that you were doing, Heaven knew of it. We are just not always directed to intervene. Free will and all of that. Not to mention that there aren't many angels who would help one of your lot.
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Excuse me?
I didn't-- I don't-- ... look, I got that out of my system a long time ago. And pardon me for saying, but you're a fucking dick for bringing him up. After I've spent the last year trying to do right by him and make up for all the dumb shit I did before.
And what do you mean, MY lot??
[... She doesn't get it yet.]
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[The angrier she gets, the more snarky his expression gets. Joke's on you, Heather.]
I can't be, I'm as anatomically impaired as a Ken doll.
And by your lot, I mean your lot. Since you're the Beast, the Dragon, the Adversary, the Son of the Morning, the Angel of the Bottomless Pit. Whichever you prefer.
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My father is a man named Harry Mason. Does THAT ring any bells?
[As he lists off more unpleasant-sounding names her scowl deepens, and there's confusion to it, too.]
EXCUSE me?
... What the hell are you implying? That I'm the Antichrist or something? [Her voice is laden with sarcasm. She has no idea he's serious.]
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Gabriel is a favorite target of his.]He's the man who raised you, but that's not really what I'm talking about.
Whether or not you've realized it yet, that's the kind of soul that you've got.
[The kind of soul, at least. It's just that an Antichrist was the closest that his world ever got to what Heather was.]
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Okay, listen, you son of a bitch.
It's not my fault what those people did to me, and what they put inside me. It's not my fault that HAVING it there did something to me that might not be reversible.
But I am NOT. THE FRIGGIN'. ANTICHRIST. Okay?!
For fuckin'... I SAVED the stupid world!
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[The Metatron was as close to omnipotence as you could get without being God Himself, but there were things that even he didn't know about.]
The world got saved from a couple of renegade angels by a woman from an abortion clinic and two stoners, too. You get all sorts.
[Though there was something off about her soul that didn't quite fit the Antichrist profile.]
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