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

Current Mood: weird
Current Location: Goldenrod City Department Store

[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

_{[All right, they can play it this way!]

[Heather is patient. ... Or. Well. ... No, she isn't. Not really. ... But it sounded cool to include, so she'll just let that stay there.]}

Once a week. On the dot.

And that depends.

Is there someone you're looking for?

_{[She wants to know why the hell he's looking for someone specific while covered in blood and holding a hot iron. Unless he's in the cattle-slaughtering business, she's fairly certain that the answer will be something illegal.]}

[What? You don't usually see this sort of thing? It's not uncommon at the base Talib is from.]

Yes, there is.

A blond man, British, who has a distinctive sword and serpent tattoo on his upper left arm. He calls himself Liquid Snake when he needs to.

[Dark eyes watch Heather carefully, searching for any lies in her answer.]

_{[Well, she was USED to such things, but not so much in the 'wanderin around in the normal world' sense. More in the 'When the walls turn into meat and everything starts melting and monsters with bendystraws for heads are trying to suck your face off' sense.]

[And you know what? This dude is setting off some bad vibes for Heather. She doesn't know what his purpose is here, but she DOESN'T like it, because a normal person would have laughed awkwardly and been all "I KNOW WHAT THIS LOOKS LIKE-- but I swear, there's a non-freaky reason I'm covered in blood and holding a branding iron!" Roll laugh track, cymbal crash, yaadda yadda.]

[But-- needless to say, LIQUID'S name is not one she expect to hear, and her brows pop up in surprise. Can't hide that.]}

Liquid?

_{[Yeah, she knows him. ... What she doesn't know is what this guy's intentions are, and for all the 'dumb blond' she sometimes gives off to strangers, she's got a cunning mind in that head of hers.]

[She smiles brightly, obliviously.]}

Dude, are you a friend of his or something? Yeah, I know him.

He works here, actually-- lame-ass job, I know, but everybody's needed cash lately... Want me to go get him? Or-- nah, he's like... right upstairs, I think. I could take you up to him if you don't mind climbing a couple of staircases.

_{[She's already climbing down from the ladder, dusting her hands off.]}

[Talib's cheerful smile widens. He can tell the girl is not telling the whole truth, but he can wait. He's a patient sociopath most of the time.]

I do not mind staircases at all~

Yes, Liquid is an old friend of mine; we were working together before I appeared here.

[More like working on him, but the point stands. He backs away politely to let her get off the ladder.]

_{[They can just smile it out until one of 'em caves, then-- she has no idea how much he does or doesn't suspect, but she's gonna play this through and see how it turns out.]

[She hops down onto the linoleum, boots squeaking. It's been freshly polished. Probably because not long before it was being rampaged over by out-of-control Pokemon.]}

Awesome, stairs're this way.

He's laying down pipes in the ceiling or something, I think. I dunno, never actually asked. Something having to do with the ceiling, though.

S'funny, he never mentioned you. What's your name?

_{[Her tone is cheery and unsuspecting and there's a casual swagger in her step as she walks towards the stairs, pointing in their direction.]}

[He follows along, enjoying the game.]

It is not so surprising; he tends to keep things close to his chest. He can be a rather secretive man.

My name is Talib; it means "Seeker of Truth" in my native language.

_{[Up the stairs they go!]}

Seeker of Truth, huh. Snazzy.

Pretty sure I'm just named after a flower. I know, boring, right?

_{[She leads him down some aisles and through a few crowds of customers to an area marked off with yellow tape-- it's one of the places that Joker's Machoke totally trashed last week-- hence the apparent construction work going on in the ceiling-- you can hear the electric drills and hammers.]

[A smallish storage pantry is the final destination-- there's cleaning supplies, buckets of paint, a few roller mops, the usual stuff. There's also a big metal ladder-- heavy-looking thing-- leading up to a removed panel in the ceiling. The construction noises are louder in here, drifting through the hole.]

[Heather dusts her hands off again, nodding to Talib.]}

I think he's up there, hang on, I'll yell for him to get his ass down here. You can uh... just wait there I guess. Shouldn't take too long. _{[She shrugs, gesturing at the bottom of the ladder before climbing up it, her boots clanking on each rung.]

[She sticks her head up into the gap once she reaches it.]}

OY!!

Not really; flowers have their own definitions and meanings. My grandmother taught me and my siblings about how to send messages through bouquets one year.

Which flower are you named for? Maybe it was one I learned!

[For a nutjob, he can be very childish and easily distracted. Many sociopaths are.]

[Talib waits obediently at the foot of the ladder, looking up as if to help her find Liquid.]

Do you think he can hear you with all this construction going on?

_{[Her answer comes quickly and without missing a beat.]}

Oh! Whoops, sorry-- guess I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Daisy.

_{[... There is no REAL reason to give this guy a fake name. It's not like 'Heather' isn't technically ALREADY a fake name. ... But still, it's funny.]

[She does look concerned at his observation, though.]}

... Eesh, you're right. Hang on, if he doesn't reply, I'll just-- ... I dunno, climb up and find him. I'll try yelling first though. Hang on.

HEY!! LIQUID!

YOU WITH THE GIRLY HAIR!

_{[... One of the electric drills stops and there's a muffled, confused sounding male voice replying unintelligibly. Heather frowns and waves a hand through the gap.]} NO, no, not you! LIQUID. I said LIQUID.

_{[There's another muffled reply and the drill turns back on. Heather pauses, wrinkling her nose, then shakes her head, uttering an exasperated sigh.]}

Ugh, hang on, he must be really far back there or something. I'll be right back.

_{[She clambers on upwards through the open panel, but just far enough to scoot herself a little into the darkness. Her increasingly-annoyed-sounding yells of "LIQUID!!" are still more or less audible.]}

Now see, that is not boring. Daisy means "Day's eye" and in the French language is is a nickname for Margaret.

[He snickers at the "girly hair" comment and watches her vanish into the ceiling crawlspace.]

[He'll chill for a while at the bottom of the ladder, taking out a cigarette and lighting up.]

_{[She pokes her head back through long enough to grin crookedly, squinting.]}

Dude, 'Margaret'? Man, what does 'Daisy' have to do with 'Ma-' Huh. _{[She shrugs, then waves a hand and disappears back into the hole. Her yells are swallowed up by the construction noises for a moment or two, before her boots reappear at the edge of the hole and she starts to climb down, tramping down onto the top rung.]}

Ugh, sorry-- THAT took awhile... Pretty sure he's coming.

If he's not, I'll go back up there and kick his ass.

_{[Sitting on the edge of the hole, she leans down a little, as though checking to see where she's putting her feet before she comes down. She doesn't wanna fall off.]}

French etymology.

It's no problem; I appreciate your help very much!

[He smiles again at her before looking around the room for another possible weapon. If Liquid was truly coming, then it undoubtedly was not to greet his tormentor. If Liquid was not coming, then the girl was lying as she was about her name.]

... Ohhhh. Y'know, I took a year of French in high school and totally hated it... too many accents. _{[She squared her hands on the edges of the ledge, getting ready to inch down onto the ladder.]}

'Course, it didn't help that my teacher was a major bitch, she always

_{[And then, right in the middle of her sentence, with no warning whatsoever in her tone, she angles her feet around, hooks them around the other side of the ladder and SHOVES with all her might, sending the hulking metal contraption crashing over-- and for good measure, she's coming down with it on the other side for extra weight-- bringing it down STRAIGHT on him as he's looking the other way unless he's fast enough to leap to the side in the small, cluttered space.]

[It's not heavy enough to kill him or even really injure him if it does hit its mark-- her aim is to trap and pin.]}

[!]

[All right! Talib has been caught! ~~Give a nickname to Talib?~~]

[It take a moment for the young man to get his bearings after the ladder catches him unawares.]

/In'a'al mayteen ehlak! Bidde neek immak!/

[...Probably should ask Liquid for a translation. Arabic curses are pretty hilarious.]

_{[Trainer Heather has nicknamed Talib 'lol sucker'!]

[Crouched on the metal contraption like some kind of gargoyle, Heather peers down through the rungs at her captive, a toothy, wolfish grin on her face.]}

Whoops.

_{[Yeah, probably-- too bad Liquid doesn't work here after all.]

[Talib was right. Heather is a filthy liar.]}

[He snarls savagely at her before a sickening smile slowly creeps over his face.]

You should know, gahba, that you cannot keep me trapped forever. Eventually I will return to my proper place and for this...

[He cackles cruelly]

I will skin my pet alive because of you, and the whole time, I will tell him about the disgusting little lying shlicke who is the reason for his pain!

_{[She tilts her scruffy head at him, one brow quirking.]}

Really.

I think that'd affect me more if I had any idea what you were talking about.

_{[Because lol okay whatever this guy could go home and skin his dog and tell it that this random girl in some other world was the reason for its suffering. That was nastay but what could she do?]

[ The point <------

Heather's head.]}

Anyway.

_{[She lifts a hand, inspecting the nails daintily, as though she didn't totally just trap somebody under a bigass metal ladder.]}

I don't care whether you go home or not, feel free to leave any time. But for now, why don't you tell me about yourself? We're gonna be here awhile, after all.

This thing is so heavy, I couldn't possibly move it, myself.

... Also, did you seriously think I'd take you to Liquid when the dude asking for him is covered in blood and holding a branding iron?

[He laughs at her dismissal.]

My name is Talib. I am a torturer of the Iraqi army.

Four years ago, my pet was captured trying to discover SCUD missiles and was sent to me to be broken.

Is it any wonder I wish to find my pretty blond dog when I have just come from hearing him scream?

_{[... Oh. Well. That certainly changed the landscape a little.]

[Heather tilts her head again, the other way, and this time there's not 'o rly?' on it so much as a weird, unreadable look. This look disappears after a moment, and her eyes narrow.]}

Oh.

_{[That's all she says. 'Oh'.]

[Then she stands up-- still with all her weight on the ladder, although the thing's heavy enough to keep him pinned all by itself, really.]

[Then she takes a step forward and plants one boot on the rung directly above Talib's face.]

[Heather's not a torturer, or a sadist. She doesn't have a thing on this guy, and there's probably not really anything she can DO that would faze him, you know, pain-wise.]

[But she is a Silent Hill survivor and the blood in her veins comes from the soil of that cursed place. She had been accused of enjoying the act of killing those things that might have been human and crushing the life out of them. And, that accuser hadn't entirely been wrong.]

[She leeeaaaaaaaaaaaaans.]}

I like my Liquid non-screaming.

[The ladder rung presses against his madly grinning face, slowly beginning to crush him.]

Too bad. You don't know what you're missing!

He's quite beautiful when he's writhing in agony. Hearing him weep like a child, so delirious with pain and sickness that he calls out to his brother and father for help...It's enthralling. He's a living drug.

I wonder if I'll scream the way he does when you kill me~

People like you are why small children cry at night.

_{[She leans further, the other end of the ladder lifting up slightly from the floor as the weight is pressed against the front.]}

And I'd take it as a kindness if you DIDN'T.

I don't get off on killing people, no matter WHAT people say about me.

_{[So much for the ditz that had yammered on about daisies and French class.]}

I like that you automatically assume I'm gonna kill you, though. 'Cuz that's pretty much true.

_{[NO ONE touched Heather's friends the way this guy was talking about and lived. She eases off the pressure for a moment, but leaves the boot there.]}

... Y'know, on second thought, I think he DID mention you.

He said you were an inbred pussy. Then he laughed. I see what he meant.

[The metal was cutting into him, making him bleed.]

Heh...I like you. You're interesting~ You, ha, remind me of my sister.

No one ever came for him. He and I, we're a lot alike. No one will mourn us in our proper worlds.

_{[Good, blood! Heather approves. She's totally in approval of him bleeding.]

[But her expression goes from plain old snarly to downright disgusted when he compares her to his sister. It's not the first time she's heard it-- but it was a hell of a lot more touching coming from Otacon than it is this guy.]}

I'm sorry to say that I don't return the sentiment.

See, I kinda don't like people who hurt my friends. _{[My FAMILY.]} And I kinda kill them. You know, when I can. _{[She had gone to Hell and back for revenge before-- literally.]}

_{[Now she's leaning on the ladder again, more forcefully.]}

I would've come for him.

But nobody's comin' for you.

_{[MORE pressure.]}

And oh yeah... My name's Heather.

Got a definition for that one, jackass?

Nng!

[He can feel and hear the metal scrape against the bone of his skull.]

You never even knew he existed!

Heather...Lavender is admiration and solitude..White is protection and wishes that come true...It thrives even under difficult conditions...One of the few brave plants to survive and grow on the Scottish moors...Heh...The name of the little red-headed girl Charlie Brown had a crush on...

_{[She's looking right into his eyes, and if he looks back, there is genuine rage in hers. The roiling kind that's actually been building up for awhile and is probably unrelated to the situation at hand, but is looking for an outlet-- ANY justified outlet-- to come out of.]}

I know he exists now.

_{[Preeeesssssss.]

[She's crushing somebody right in her workplace. She'd be worried about the police if she wasn't also pretty sure this was some kind of disturbing, morbid dream. In real life, she'd probably have just settled with holding this guy down and calling Liquid to see what to do with him. But hey... it's a DREAM, right? That and there's no death in Johto so he'll probably just be teleported to the Pokemon Center or something, orz.]}

And hm.

Doesn't sound like any of that fits. 'Cept maybe that part about difficult conditions.

_{[Although she HAD had her very own Charlie Brown crush-holder, once... too bad he had been just as dangerous and disturbed as the man she was currently dealing justice to. ... Her own form of justice, anyway.]}

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