foolishwren | [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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[OPTIONAL STEP THREE IS A GO-- the Tank roars in his own victory, then begins his lumbering approach, dragging more shelves down with his girth as he goes. the ground is literally shaking underneath Heather as he approaches; it's a wonder he doesn't fall right through the floor.]

[by the time his fists are within vision, it'll probably be too late. Heather has about five seconds to get up and get going before he rearranges her face using TANK SMASH.]

_{[Fortunately for Heather, she's fast. And since there's no Valtiel around to drag her off and revive her whenever she dies this time around, you bet that her body is instinctively telling her to get the hell out of dodge.]

[Her eyes snap back open as the floor rumbles beneath her, and instinct forces her into action as she rolls to the side, only barely escaping the fists that come slamming down into the floor where she had been only a fraction of a second before, denting the linoleum.]

[Then she's scrambling to her feet again, breathing raggedly, and throwing herself into another sprint, eyes wide.]

[She has to get away-- she CAN'T fight this thing. Not without a GUN. Or maybe a BAZOOKA.]

[Losing it is the only option. Doorway? ... Too far away, it'd be on her before she could get halfway... She cranes her head back desperately as she runs, and-- bingo. Removable panels in the ceiling-- there for the electricians to get easier access to the wiring. She'd been shown that on her first day-- and expressly forbidden to go up in there, of course.]

[Fuck THAT.]

[She changes course and goes charging for the shelf that stood underneath the closest panel, taking a flying leap and scrambling up it like a ladder....!]}

[if Heather's a quick enough thinker on her feet to refer to high school Chemistry, then she could always make fire-- if there was one thing that Tank does not get along with that isn't a Survivor with a semi-automatic, it's fire. Tank hates fire-- sure, it'd make him rampage, and, assuming Johto runs on Campaign Mode, run about twice as fast (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0RWVqboVjI), but Tank and fire is a guaranteed lethal combination. for Tank.]

[not that it matters; Tank is running on borrowed time as it is.]

[with another roar that sounds suspiciously like a laugh and like he's having way too much fun with this, Tank lumbers on over to the aisle where tiny Survivor is scaling the shelves like a frantic ice climber and takes a swing with one of his bludgeon arms. WILL HEATHER GET AWAY IN TIME?!]

_{[Well, a quick enough THINKER she sure is-- but a quick enough DOER, she's not so sure about. Given enough time and a good hiding place, it's more or less guaranteed that she'll be able to find SOMETHING in this place to make fire with-- but with THIS thing galloping around after her, when's she gonna get THAT chance? There's always the possibility that if she runs into the girls' bathroom, it will wait politely outside to resume the chase until she comes out, buuut she's not gonna bank on that, mmkay.]

[Right now, her priority is to get away, and THEN she can worry about finding something volatile enough to take this thing out.]

[She reaches the top of the shelf in record time-- this girl can climb like a monkey-- and wrenches the cheap, styrofoamy tile out of place.]

[And right about at that point, Tank promptly accidentally the entire set of shelves she's standing on (... okay, actually, it was most definitely on purpose). Letting out a shriek, Heather makes a frantic grab for the edge of the new hole in the ceiling and finds herself dangling pretty stupidly in midair.]

[WELL. THIS WAS JUST FANTASTIC.]

[She's not about to let herself STAY there, though-- so she's scrambling to haul herself upwards into the hole and hoping to dear god that this thing is stupid enough to suffer a moment of confusion at the sight of his prey STANDING ON AIR, HOLY FUCK, WHAT IS HAPPENING. WHAT HAS SCIENCE DONE.]}

Edited 2010-11-28 19:49 (UTC)

[unfortunately for Heather, Tank is smart enough to adapt to his situation and climb toward his victims. unfortunately for Tank, there isn't anything nearly close enough to support his weight if he tried climbing, as he proves when he attempts to climb another shelf nearby. it's unlikely he'd really get very far rampaging on the the cheapo ceiling tiles anyway.]

[so at the moment, Tank doesn't really have much to do except ROID RAGE and basically destroy the entire floor. boy is Heather's manager going to be pissed.]

_{[Yeeeeeaaaaah. A Tan in the ceiling would more or less be... um... a Tank back on the floor surrounded by broken pieces of ceiling. Luckily for Heather.]

[UNLUCKILY.... yes. Her manager is going to be pissed. Her manager is going to be SO pissed. Heather is probably going to get fired by the end of today. Good thing nobody's gonna remember this stuff really happened. But HEATHER DOESN'T KNOW THAT-- so all she can do is dangle and clamber up into the gap, and then watch in horror and despair as Tank reduces everything in the room to brightly-colored rubble.]

..... I am SO fucked...}

[there are two pluses here for Heather, at least-- first plus: for some reason, nobody else seems to be wandering on this floor to experience Tank's fists of mass destruction. second plus: after several minutes, the mixture of the Infection and Tank's puny little human heart just can't handle his massive mutations and girth. with a strangled roar, Tank basically keels over and dies of his own lameness.]

[maybe if Heather hurries, she can clean the mess before her manager arrives?!]

_{[Heather has been surprisingly alone for most of the eerier wtfevents that have occurred on this increasingly-surreal day. Possibly because the universe likes watching her suffer and if nobody sees these things happening, she can be blamed all the more easily for the things like HOLES IN THE FRIGGIN WALLS FROM THE KOOLAID MAN.]

[She just... watches the destruction, and watches this strange and incredibly unattractive creature just sort of... fail onto the floor.]

[A beat]

[... Hell no, she's not cleaning this up. Heather scoots around and just crawls off through the vent. Fuck that, she's going to pretend she was SOMEWHERE ELSE when the manager comes in.]

[Heather is the best employee ever~]}

[Action in the ~~Goldenrod Department Store~~] FOURTH WALL EVENT POST

I'm only half giant-- I guess that makes me Hagrid

.... DAAAANG HAGRID YOU REALLY LET YOURSELF GO. :(

I likes my butterbeer ):

>8( that stuff goes straight to your hips, man. what were you thinking

i really really really likes my butterbeer ):

>8( bad Hagrid. /spritzes with a water bottle

ARRRGHHHGHAG

NOW GO STAND IN THE CORNER