Heather Mason
[What a lovely morning!]

[It's the crack of dawn, the Pidgeys are twittering, sprinklers next door are turning on and occasionally shooting water over the fence and into the pool, making the two Sharpedo living back there swim around in mingled excitement and panic. What a time to be alive.]

[Wait a minute.]

[God dammit.]

[ooc: This is a bit of a catch-all, feel free to assume your character is running into Heather ANY TIME, ANYWHERE. They don't have to respond specifically to the Sewer Fairy, although she will be following Heather around and popping up in inopportune places.]
I'm feeling: annoyed
Heather Mason
28 November 2014 @ 12:46 am
[It's begun.]


[No, not the time of year when the Christmas decorations start going up in stores-- let's be real, guys, that happened like two months ago.]


[It's that time of year when the boundaries between worlds grow thin and all kinds of wild and wonderful things come pouring out of thin air onto the streets for all to watch and enjoy.]

[... And then on the other end of the spectrum, there's...]


[The shout of an excited Ace Trainer dudebro who never quite got off the September Swarm hype train rings out over the chaos as a small army of... uh... things come bumbling down the sidewalk, ineffectively squawking and bumping into peoples' legs.]

OH! Oh, they're ADORABLE! LOOK! I'm keeping one RIGHT NOW!

[A Poke-Fan sweeps one off of its tiny nub feet and cradles it like an infant while it flops and kicks.]

[A crowd soon forms.]

[No one pays any attention to the trainer hopping up and down at the edge, waving her arms.]

Guys-- GUYS!! STOP!


DON'T TRY TO CA-- unbelievable.
Yo, this is where I'm at: ANYWHERE
I'm feeling: distressed
Heather Mason
[Static. Then, jumbled, chaotic video-- but through it all, there's the gruff, guttural voice of a Croconaw.]

T-turn on the camera!


How do I get her to let go?!


[It takes awhile... but it eventually comes back around.]

[ooc: Heather has become Memory of Alessa for the duration of Fourth Wall! Feel free to tag if you want your character to interact with spooky semi-feral zombie-Heather, no matter where they are!]
I'm feeling: aggravated
Heather Mason
[You know what?]

[Heather's not even sure why she TRIES anymore.]

[So done. So done.]

Here we go again.

... Yes, Cooj, I still love you.

Just not right now.
I'm feeling: aggravated
Yo, this is where I'm at: Saffron City
Currently jammin' to: the dulcet tones of Cujo wheezing in my ear
Heather Mason

[It's funny, because these sorts of weekends have come to be ones that Heather dreads, clear memories or no. She doesn't remember much of them when they roll around, but she remembers enough, and usually what she remembers is bad.]

[So yeah, she's sort of been walking on eggshells, waiting for this to happen.]

[BUT... between all the craziness going down throughout November... bundling over to Kanto with the rest of her family to cheer Crow on during the Tournament, spending Thanksgiving in the packed-to-bursting household of a grumpy FBI agent and the enormously large family unit he seems to have somehow gathered (despite... being himself) ...]

[It drives weird dreamy weekends filled with amnesia and horror and the Koolaid Man bursting through the wall out of the mind, a little!]

[.... Which is why, yeah, uh, she's out taking Cooj for a nighttime walk on Friday night, and doesn't quite notice anything's up yet.]

[Or the pink bunny following her around.]

[OOC: Tags may be horrendously slow due to NaNo, but I had to hiatus-break at least a LITTLE for 4th Wall! Robbie the Rabbit will be lingering in the background of any given thread, but feel free to throw anything at Heather and not bother with the spooky pink bunny chillin over there.]
Yo, this is where I'm at: Saffron City
I'm feeling: nervous
Heather Mason
26 May 2012 @ 12:51 am
[If anyone stops to check their 'Gear in the midst of all the chaos unfolding, they will find an extremely odd text message originating from the 'Gear of Heather Mason.]

[Or more accurately, it's the image attachment that's odd.]

[Apparently, some nurses have stolen Heather's PokeGear and are using it to take Myspace pictures.]


[ooc: Feel free to tag in with any scenario or character you want, it doesn't necessarily have to involve the text message, the nurses, or their godawful duckfaces! GO WILD, just let me know where you want the thread to take place!]
Heather Mason
[Another day, another long shift at work. Heather doesn't really mind, though. It's one hell of a difference between the hectic stress of the job in the department store that she had last year. What a difference having SANE bosses can make, even if the job is more boring.]

[As the morning sun creeps higher behind the snowclouds and lights up the powder drifting down from the sky, Heather is seated at one of the stools behind the counter in the diner where she now works, and is making herself incredibly useful by balancing all the salt-shakers she can find on top of one another.]

[And then putting all those little sealed packets of sliced cheese she can find on top of THOSE.]

[It's a quiet morning, okay? Leave her alone!]

[Needless to say, one of the owners of the diner-- an old married couple-- spots his newest employee working on the Leaning Tower of Cheesa and just sort of shakes his head, sighing. Kids these days.]

Miss Mason, as much as I hate to stifle the budding artist in you, the soda machines need cleaning.

[Heather heaves an enormously-dramatic mock sigh as she gets up.]

Ugh, finnneeee. You're just jealous of my deeply creative spirit.

You got me. I'm turning green. Dish-soap should be in the back.

[Having chill bosses is AWESOME. Heather had decided she liked having bosses she could banter with almost as soon as she got the job. She sticks her tongue out at him as she passes, on her way to the back door. And then she has an idea!]

[Pulling out her 'Gear, she hits the network button.]

HEY GUYS. Who wants to watch me CLEAN SHIT?

[Because clearly if she had to do boring things, it would improve everybody else's lives to watch her do them.]

[But behind her, the boss clears his throat meaningfully, and Heather rolls her eyes.]

Oh, that's just Danny!

[OOC: COME AT ME BROS. Feel free to assume that Heather is elsewhere if you don't feel like dealing with Danny-- 4th Wall is like CRACK: THE EVENT, so I'm happy to stick her wherever.]
I'm feeling: scared
Heather Mason
28 May 2011 @ 08:17 pm
[So that night, y'know, Heather and presumably a lot of other people getting ready to head off from Olivine in the morning after all that stormy chaos had all either conked out in the Center or checked into the (distinctly crappier than Goldenrod's, for the record-- PEH) local inn for the night.]

[And in the morning, all would be normal and Heather'd head off back to Goldenrod with her dad and everything would be totally chill.]

[... Or not.]


[ooc: SO FOR THE DURATION OF THE EVENT, HEATHER WILL BE WANDERING AROUND WITH A CERTAIN UNWANTED GUARDIAN ANGEL IN TOW. That said, if you just wanna subject Heather to whatever crack you want, by all means TAG AWAY as though Valtiel's just a fly on the wall. He's pretty good at that. SO HIT ME WITH YOUR WTF-IEST, GUYS!]
Yo, this is where I'm at: WHEREVER SHE NEEDS TO BE.
I'm feeling: shocked
Heather Mason
[Most of the time, that whole cliche where people awake from a nightmare by BOLTING upright in their beds, eyes wide, sweat-soaked, and gasping like a fish? Totally false. Real life is rarely that dramatic, and accordingly, neither is Heather's normal reaction to bad dreams. She has them so often that they're rarely worth the energy to make such a scene.]

[But tonight?]

[Screw cliches.]

AAHHhhhuhgh! Hhhh!

[She sits upright in a tangle of blankets so fast that the PokeGear on her chest goes flying across the room, clattering to the floor a short distance away from her bed. The video feed button is hit in the process and anyone watching will be treated to a sideways worm's eye view of the bed. Heather's eyes are wide and glossy, her skin and clothing soaked through with sweat. Her chest is heaving like her body is convinced that she's DYING, and to be fair, it probably IS. Her hair is all over the place and goosebumps are standing out on her bare arms like pinheads-- those bandages? Yeah, they got all sweaty and just... unraveled and bunched down around her wrists.]

[The moonlight-- or-- er, the countless Goldenrod streetlights outside, anyway-- reflecting off of her skin just added to the impression that she'd been rolling around in wet grass or something. She was going to be SO cold once the adrenaline wore off and the chill of the cold sweat set in.]

[What... what was... oh, GOD, what the FUCK was...?]

[She looks around the dark hotel room wildly, wheezing, and smears her hair out of her face after a moment and just presses a hand to her temple, shoulders slumping.]

Holy hell...

[Pulling in a deep, congested-sounding breath, she looks up again, still pale as a sheet but at least calming down. Dreams. It had all been dreams. ... Well, DUH, it had been dreams-- she had been chased by the friggin' KOOL-AID MAN. But-- even the most vivid of dreams in her normal roster of Traumatizing Nighttime Visions (tm) (and her normal nightmares? Oh hell yes, you BET they were vivid) couldn't even come close to what she had just experienced. It had all felt so... so real.]

[She notices the PokeGear on the floor and just sort of... leans over and half-slides off the bed, reaching out for it with one arm and just hanging off of the edge of the bed at the waist like a gangly ragdoll.]

What time is it...

[... Midnight. Just midnight. Okay... Midnight. Ugh. Well, there was no way she was gonna get to sleep after THAT, so... she'll just turn the lights on, watch some TV, and-- .... wait.]

[... Why was the date three days later than she last remembered?]

.... The friggin' frick...

[She drops the 'Gear again, and there's some thumping and rustling noises as she unentangles herself from the blankets and drags herself out of bed. Her bare feet walk past the screen and then the door slams. The feed times out eventually.]

[ooc: If your character is in the Goldenrod Hotel and is friends with Heather/she is aware of their being there, expect a violent knock on the door, an encounter with a boxer-and-tank-top-clad Heather who looks like she saw a ghost, and some confusion when she just looks you up and down, decides she's satisfied with the fact that you exist, and wanders off down the hallway in a daze to terrorize someone else.]
I'm feeling: distressed
Yo, this is where I'm at: Goldenrod City Hotel
Heather Mason
[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?]



.... And back in your day, the elderly fell behind and got eaten by saber-toothed tigers...


Ugh... nothing...


Yes, ma'am...


[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.]


[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.]

I'm feeling: weird
Yo, this is where I'm at: Goldenrod City Department Store