Heather Mason (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
foolishwren) wrote2011-06-14 07:07 pm
foolishwren) wrote2011-06-14 07:07 pm
Entry tags:
- *axis powers hetalia: england,
- *bleach: ise nanao,
- *dcmk: aoko nakamori,
- *dcmk: kaito kuroba,
- *final fantasy: rinoa,
- *fruits basket: kyo soma,
- *fullmetal alchemist: edward elric,
- *fullmetal alchemist: envy,
- *homestuck: john egbert,
- *kingdom hearts: minnie mouse,
- *kingdom hearts: roxas,
- *metal gear solid: hal 'otacon' emmerich,
- *metal gear solid: revolver ocelot,
- *my little pony: applejack,
- *needless: cruz schild,
- *nightmare before xmas: jack skellington,
- *persona 4: chie satonaka,
- *persona 4: rise kujikawa,
- *professor layton: luke triton,
- *professor layton: professor layton,
- *silent hill: harry mason,
- *silent hill: henry townshend,
- *transformers (movie): ironhide,
- *twin peaks: dale cooper,
- 525600 minutes,
- a letter to my future self,
- a winner is me,
- action,
- all's well that ends well,
- back in my day,
- brb going on an adventure,
- cujo,
- dramatic narration,
- glorious day,
- growlithe,
- happy anniversary,
- how about love?,
- i win forever,
- ic,
- lol i don't care that i broke the law,
- looking good kid,
- olivine city,
- prose,
- the floor is lava
68. [Video/Action for Olivine City] BACKDATED to the tenth.
[OOC: As usual, please feel free to skip over my long-ass prose! As usual, I apologize heartily for the spam but I couldn't let an occasion like this pass entirely without getting all sappy and BAWWW over it. Action is open to anybody in Olivine City!
also I used something from an ooc prose thing I wrote awhile ago so if some of this sounds familiar, YOU KNOW WHY]
~*~
There were a lot of things that really set this place apart from Goldenrod City.
One was the smell of the ocean. Goldenrod was a beach city, yes-- but somewhere in the middle of the smell of exhaust (nowhere near as bad as a city back home, though-- this place seemed obsessively eco-friendly for the most part), hot-lunch carts, and the sharp sweetness of the bursts of golden-colored blooms that overflowed from every park and balcony-garden, that deep, rich ocean smell was lost when you weren't right next to the damn thing.
That wasn't the case here.
In fact, as she hiked up the steep, old-timey flagstone streets of Olivine, the ocean was practically the only thing there every time she inhaled. Maybe it was because she'd just been down by the docks, but she didn't think so. No, she was pretty sure the whole city just smelled like this. Kinda liked it, in fact. Reminded her a little of home. She hadn't lived on the beach-line, but you could hop on the subway and get to the coast in perhaps an hour, tops-- that had been one of the few vacationy places that her father had been willing to take her when she was little. Lots of fond, sunny memories... Not that those rocky old Maine beaches had anything on the one she'd just walked up from.
"Hurry it up, drooly, or we'll miss the whole thing," she called over her shoulder, kicking a foot to dislodge some of the beach's contents from where it had gotten trapped between the sandal's sole and her own, sending a small cascade of the silky sand onto the already-sandy street-- that was the other thing about beach cities-- didn't quite matter how far up you got from sea-level. In the same way you could expect glitter to make its way all around the building if even one sixth grader decided they wanted their science poster to be sparkly, there was no escape from sand in a beach town.
From further down the street behind her, the damp Growlithe she'd addressed ceased his curious sniffing of a pot of sleeping Oddishes on somebody's doorstep, and broke up into a gallop to catch up with his trainer... Whereupon he slowed into a trot and proceeded to shake wet sand all over her.
"ACKplth! Cujo!"
When the spray stopped, she put her arms down and shot the dog a glare, only to be met with his usual expression of contentment as his tongue lolled out and his shaggy tail wavered back and forth.
A year ago, Heather would have turned away and grumbled foul things under her breath-- or even shoved him away with her foot-- only BARELY gently enough to not call it a kick.
Instead, she was only able to keep the glare up for a few seconds before it melted into an gentle eye-roll as she turned away, continuing to climb the steep streets on legs that last summer would have burned unpleasantly at all this uphill walking but now hardly noticed. "C'mon, you mangy mutt..."
A lot could change in a year.
A few blocks blocks higher saw the pair pause again as Heather halted on a tight corner, turning to survey the horizon. They'd made pretty good time, all things considered-- especially since they'd been all the way down on the beach just ten minutes before.
"I guess we're high enough..."
Another thing that set Olivine City apart from Goldenrod was how close everything was.
Sure, in that shiny golden city, everything was new-- tall, sleek buildings and shiny windows and great big alleys all in between. Here, as Heather mused, biting back a strained noise as she clambered onto a wheelbarrow in one of the narrow, weedy little yards to peer into the dark, dusty windows of a nearby house, everything was closer together. There were more bumps and hand-holds to grab to carry yourself up off the streets with-- it felt older. More familiar. Sort of like Johto itself did, now. Or maybe... maybe that was just her. She was okay with that.
After a few seconds of squinting, Heather nodded, then hung grimly onto the rough stone edge of the sill as she nudged the wheelbarrow out of the way with one foot and dangled before dropping back to solid ground with a sandy scrape and a grunt.
"Okay, no one's home-- c'mon, Cooj, hup!"
It would occur to her, later, that returning him to his ball and just climbing up herself, might have been easier. But as difficult as it was to have a big, wriggly (and wet) animal the size of a young St. Bernard hop into your arms without your legs buckling, for some reason, she couldn't quite bring herself to mind.
"OOF-- starting tomorrow, I'm puttin' you on a diet, fatass-- HEY, you're really not helping, here! Cut it out or I'll find an axe n'give you a makeover to look like the dogs from back home!" The words were threatening, and the tone would have been, too, if she hadn't been desperately (but somewhat unsuccessfully) trying to muffle the involuntary giggles that came with having a big sloppy canine tongue assaulting any part of her face and neck it could reach. A year ago, it would've sent her nerves into a panic-- but, well, we've already covered what can happen in a year's worth of time.
Stumbling over to a rock wall towards the back of the tiny yard, Heather shoved the squirming dog up onto it with some difficulty (as well as a disgusted "BLEAGH" noise as she tried to wipe some of the slobber off of her face with one shoulder), then proceeded to climb up behind him, herself.
Note to self, sandals: not the best climbing footwear ever.
Once she'd hauled herself upright, arms out for balance, she took another look at the skyline, pausing to catch her breath.
"Whew ... okay, we still got time. C'mon, boy."
A wobbly fence, a few broken shingles, and more than one canine backslide later, Heather crouched at their destination, reaching out with one hand to tug Cujo up beside her and sucking on a scraped finger with the other.
"Okay, I gotcha-- waitasec, you're slip-- nah, okay, you got it. Good boy."
Once both Cujo's paws were successfully over the edge, anchoring him there securely, he snorted in a contented manner and went back to panting-- happy as a clam despite the fact that he was a good deal higher off of solid ground than most dogs care to be. Pleased to see that they'd reached their goal in time, Heather dug in her pockets, breaking into a grin.
"Sorta feel bad for not bringing any of the others up here... but I guess it feels kinda right. Just you and me... like it was when we started."
Cujo nudged his big wet nose under her elbow in agreement-- or maybe just because he really wanted to smell it. It was hard to tell with him. He, after all, was one thing that had stayed largely the same over the last twelve months...
... It was Heather who had changed. For all kinds of reasons, really.
One of them being Cujo, himself.
But there were others. So many others. And as Heather fumbled for the 'Gear, looking out at the object of their whole trip upwards through town, she couldn't help but smile as she remembered them... all of them.
Even the ones who were gone, the ones who it hurt to admit she may never see again, the ones who she almost wished for awhile that she hadn't even met, just because it had seemed a little easier that way...
Watching the slow transformation of a stubbornly-unamused frown into that crooked ‘stop it you’re not funny, really, I mean it, go away, I’m not smiling!’ grin every time she bothered Phoenix, or the quiet concern in his eyes and words when she had arrived, bleeding and covered in snow at the door to his room that one December night …
Meeting Cybil Bennett, the woman she'd grown up hearing about her entire life but never able to know in person, the one and only friend her father had ever told her about having...
The quiet but somehow reassuring presence of awkward, sweet-natured James, the first person she’d ever met to have seen the full extent of that town’s terrifying underbelly and survived…
Those memories were bittersweet but just as important, she knew, as all the ones that were still there, still changing everything bit by little bit.
… Otacon’s hugs, the cuddly ones that smelled like his labcoat and always seemed to wind up assisted by the yellow, tingly-furred Asimov… Wrestling matches with Liquid that somehow always seemed to degenerate into tickle-fights (which Heather would inevitably lose, but underneath the indignation, she secretly didn’t mind)… Playfully fending Rise off as the pigtailed pop-idol loomed behind her with a hairbrush and tinfoil … The Professor’s proud, fatherly smile when she solved one of his puzzles, no matter how many picarats she lost in the process… The amusement that lurked under Snake’s grumbliness at all the crazy ideas she shared with him over whatever cheap snack he’d bought her on one of the many side-streets of Goldenrod… The fight to keep a straight face every time Sora popped up unexpectedly with that ridiculous fake beard to challenge her to a battle… The endless number of late-night network calls to Kaito that always seemed to end in them laughing so hard it hurt, no matter what was going on in their lives at the time, light or grim…. Feeling that tight-chested ache of pride whenever she spotted Miles and Ken playing like the children they deserved to be…
Trekking through forests and mountains and endless long-grassed fields until her muscles ached and heels bubbled up with blisters…
That feeling that was equal parts relief and triumph when she stumbled into a new city after days on end of seeing nothing but wilderness…
The rush of exhilaration that coursed through her entire body like blood in her veins during the thick of an intense battle…
Falling sleep under the stars at night, curled up against the one creature she never thought she’d trust, but somehow still feeling safer in his stupid, slobbery presence than she could have ever predicted…
... Getting to hug her father again.
All the friends-- no, family-- she’d made, all the places she’d seen, all the times she’d shared, good and bad, with both...
Her fingers snagged the plastic cover of the PokeGear and she finally yanked it out, aiming it at her target and mumbling to herself...
"This is for you guys."
[VIDEO]
[The feed comes on with a jumble at first-- and-- ... is that a hand pressed over the camera?]
--got it, Cujo, cut it out or I'll chuck you off of here like a volleyball--
AHEM.
Hey, Johto. How you doin'. I'm pretty good, y'know, just chillin'.
But hey, I've kinda gotten to like you, considering you've been here being a pain in our collective butt for a three-hundred-sixty-five days now-- y'know, 'we' being all the people you sort of dumped into yourself without warning-- so I figured... now'd be a good time to show everybody your thank-you gift for puttin' up with you, huh?
Naaaah, there's no need to thank me for spreading your favor around, I'm just being a gosh-darn Good Samaritan here-- assuming everybody else is ready for it, of course.
Say, Cooj, d'you think the rest of the network's ready to accept Johto's thank-you gift?
WUFF!
Y'sure? ... Well, all right.
[The hand is lifted.]
... Y'know, I'm not totally sure this makes up for the kidnapping, but...
[The camera wavers a little bit to show Heather's grinning face.]
S'pretty nice, huh?
Happy anniversary.
[The camera turns back to the sunset-- and will likely stay on until the sky goes totally dark. Whereupon, end feed~]
also I used something from an ooc prose thing I wrote awhile ago so if some of this sounds familiar, YOU KNOW WHY]
There were a lot of things that really set this place apart from Goldenrod City.
One was the smell of the ocean. Goldenrod was a beach city, yes-- but somewhere in the middle of the smell of exhaust (nowhere near as bad as a city back home, though-- this place seemed obsessively eco-friendly for the most part), hot-lunch carts, and the sharp sweetness of the bursts of golden-colored blooms that overflowed from every park and balcony-garden, that deep, rich ocean smell was lost when you weren't right next to the damn thing.
That wasn't the case here.
In fact, as she hiked up the steep, old-timey flagstone streets of Olivine, the ocean was practically the only thing there every time she inhaled. Maybe it was because she'd just been down by the docks, but she didn't think so. No, she was pretty sure the whole city just smelled like this. Kinda liked it, in fact. Reminded her a little of home. She hadn't lived on the beach-line, but you could hop on the subway and get to the coast in perhaps an hour, tops-- that had been one of the few vacationy places that her father had been willing to take her when she was little. Lots of fond, sunny memories... Not that those rocky old Maine beaches had anything on the one she'd just walked up from.
"Hurry it up, drooly, or we'll miss the whole thing," she called over her shoulder, kicking a foot to dislodge some of the beach's contents from where it had gotten trapped between the sandal's sole and her own, sending a small cascade of the silky sand onto the already-sandy street-- that was the other thing about beach cities-- didn't quite matter how far up you got from sea-level. In the same way you could expect glitter to make its way all around the building if even one sixth grader decided they wanted their science poster to be sparkly, there was no escape from sand in a beach town.
From further down the street behind her, the damp Growlithe she'd addressed ceased his curious sniffing of a pot of sleeping Oddishes on somebody's doorstep, and broke up into a gallop to catch up with his trainer... Whereupon he slowed into a trot and proceeded to shake wet sand all over her.
"ACKplth! Cujo!"
When the spray stopped, she put her arms down and shot the dog a glare, only to be met with his usual expression of contentment as his tongue lolled out and his shaggy tail wavered back and forth.
A year ago, Heather would have turned away and grumbled foul things under her breath-- or even shoved him away with her foot-- only BARELY gently enough to not call it a kick.
Instead, she was only able to keep the glare up for a few seconds before it melted into an gentle eye-roll as she turned away, continuing to climb the steep streets on legs that last summer would have burned unpleasantly at all this uphill walking but now hardly noticed. "C'mon, you mangy mutt..."
A lot could change in a year.
A few blocks blocks higher saw the pair pause again as Heather halted on a tight corner, turning to survey the horizon. They'd made pretty good time, all things considered-- especially since they'd been all the way down on the beach just ten minutes before.
"I guess we're high enough..."
Another thing that set Olivine City apart from Goldenrod was how close everything was.
Sure, in that shiny golden city, everything was new-- tall, sleek buildings and shiny windows and great big alleys all in between. Here, as Heather mused, biting back a strained noise as she clambered onto a wheelbarrow in one of the narrow, weedy little yards to peer into the dark, dusty windows of a nearby house, everything was closer together. There were more bumps and hand-holds to grab to carry yourself up off the streets with-- it felt older. More familiar. Sort of like Johto itself did, now. Or maybe... maybe that was just her. She was okay with that.
After a few seconds of squinting, Heather nodded, then hung grimly onto the rough stone edge of the sill as she nudged the wheelbarrow out of the way with one foot and dangled before dropping back to solid ground with a sandy scrape and a grunt.
"Okay, no one's home-- c'mon, Cooj, hup!"
It would occur to her, later, that returning him to his ball and just climbing up herself, might have been easier. But as difficult as it was to have a big, wriggly (and wet) animal the size of a young St. Bernard hop into your arms without your legs buckling, for some reason, she couldn't quite bring herself to mind.
"OOF-- starting tomorrow, I'm puttin' you on a diet, fatass-- HEY, you're really not helping, here! Cut it out or I'll find an axe n'give you a makeover to look like the dogs from back home!" The words were threatening, and the tone would have been, too, if she hadn't been desperately (but somewhat unsuccessfully) trying to muffle the involuntary giggles that came with having a big sloppy canine tongue assaulting any part of her face and neck it could reach. A year ago, it would've sent her nerves into a panic-- but, well, we've already covered what can happen in a year's worth of time.
Stumbling over to a rock wall towards the back of the tiny yard, Heather shoved the squirming dog up onto it with some difficulty (as well as a disgusted "BLEAGH" noise as she tried to wipe some of the slobber off of her face with one shoulder), then proceeded to climb up behind him, herself.
Note to self, sandals: not the best climbing footwear ever.
Once she'd hauled herself upright, arms out for balance, she took another look at the skyline, pausing to catch her breath.
"Whew ... okay, we still got time. C'mon, boy."
A wobbly fence, a few broken shingles, and more than one canine backslide later, Heather crouched at their destination, reaching out with one hand to tug Cujo up beside her and sucking on a scraped finger with the other.
"Okay, I gotcha-- waitasec, you're slip-- nah, okay, you got it. Good boy."
Once both Cujo's paws were successfully over the edge, anchoring him there securely, he snorted in a contented manner and went back to panting-- happy as a clam despite the fact that he was a good deal higher off of solid ground than most dogs care to be. Pleased to see that they'd reached their goal in time, Heather dug in her pockets, breaking into a grin.
"Sorta feel bad for not bringing any of the others up here... but I guess it feels kinda right. Just you and me... like it was when we started."
Cujo nudged his big wet nose under her elbow in agreement-- or maybe just because he really wanted to smell it. It was hard to tell with him. He, after all, was one thing that had stayed largely the same over the last twelve months...
... It was Heather who had changed. For all kinds of reasons, really.
One of them being Cujo, himself.
But there were others. So many others. And as Heather fumbled for the 'Gear, looking out at the object of their whole trip upwards through town, she couldn't help but smile as she remembered them... all of them.
Even the ones who were gone, the ones who it hurt to admit she may never see again, the ones who she almost wished for awhile that she hadn't even met, just because it had seemed a little easier that way...
Watching the slow transformation of a stubbornly-unamused frown into that crooked ‘stop it you’re not funny, really, I mean it, go away, I’m not smiling!’ grin every time she bothered Phoenix, or the quiet concern in his eyes and words when she had arrived, bleeding and covered in snow at the door to his room that one December night …
Meeting Cybil Bennett, the woman she'd grown up hearing about her entire life but never able to know in person, the one and only friend her father had ever told her about having...
The quiet but somehow reassuring presence of awkward, sweet-natured James, the first person she’d ever met to have seen the full extent of that town’s terrifying underbelly and survived…
Those memories were bittersweet but just as important, she knew, as all the ones that were still there, still changing everything bit by little bit.
… Otacon’s hugs, the cuddly ones that smelled like his labcoat and always seemed to wind up assisted by the yellow, tingly-furred Asimov… Wrestling matches with Liquid that somehow always seemed to degenerate into tickle-fights (which Heather would inevitably lose, but underneath the indignation, she secretly didn’t mind)… Playfully fending Rise off as the pigtailed pop-idol loomed behind her with a hairbrush and tinfoil … The Professor’s proud, fatherly smile when she solved one of his puzzles, no matter how many picarats she lost in the process… The amusement that lurked under Snake’s grumbliness at all the crazy ideas she shared with him over whatever cheap snack he’d bought her on one of the many side-streets of Goldenrod… The fight to keep a straight face every time Sora popped up unexpectedly with that ridiculous fake beard to challenge her to a battle… The endless number of late-night network calls to Kaito that always seemed to end in them laughing so hard it hurt, no matter what was going on in their lives at the time, light or grim…. Feeling that tight-chested ache of pride whenever she spotted Miles and Ken playing like the children they deserved to be…
Trekking through forests and mountains and endless long-grassed fields until her muscles ached and heels bubbled up with blisters…
That feeling that was equal parts relief and triumph when she stumbled into a new city after days on end of seeing nothing but wilderness…
The rush of exhilaration that coursed through her entire body like blood in her veins during the thick of an intense battle…
Falling sleep under the stars at night, curled up against the one creature she never thought she’d trust, but somehow still feeling safer in his stupid, slobbery presence than she could have ever predicted…
... Getting to hug her father again.
All the friends-- no, family-- she’d made, all the places she’d seen, all the times she’d shared, good and bad, with both...
Her fingers snagged the plastic cover of the PokeGear and she finally yanked it out, aiming it at her target and mumbling to herself...
"This is for you guys."
[VIDEO]
[The feed comes on with a jumble at first-- and-- ... is that a hand pressed over the camera?]
--got it, Cujo, cut it out or I'll chuck you off of here like a volleyball--
AHEM.
Hey, Johto. How you doin'. I'm pretty good, y'know, just chillin'.
But hey, I've kinda gotten to like you, considering you've been here being a pain in our collective butt for a three-hundred-sixty-five days now-- y'know, 'we' being all the people you sort of dumped into yourself without warning-- so I figured... now'd be a good time to show everybody your thank-you gift for puttin' up with you, huh?
Naaaah, there's no need to thank me for spreading your favor around, I'm just being a gosh-darn Good Samaritan here-- assuming everybody else is ready for it, of course.
Say, Cooj, d'you think the rest of the network's ready to accept Johto's thank-you gift?
WUFF!
Y'sure? ... Well, all right.
[The hand is lifted.]
... Y'know, I'm not totally sure this makes up for the kidnapping, but...
[The camera wavers a little bit to show Heather's grinning face.]
S'pretty nice, huh?
Happy anniversary.
[The camera turns back to the sunset-- and will likely stay on until the sky goes totally dark. Whereupon, end feed~]
[action]
[Wild umbilical cord kitty appeared! The little grey kitten invited himself onto the far end of the roof top, sliding around on the slick roof tiles.
Why was he up there? Because he was a fucking cat and cats climbed, that's why. When he notices Heather and Cujo, he puffs up and makes that fail-hissing kittens do that sounds more like the air leaving a compressed cushion than a hiss.]
[A quiet, dismayed,]
Buurgeeeer!
[came from down below. Henry is wandering around with his hands up to his mouth. He's never called a cat before...or called for ANYTHING really...that would involve shouting. It felt so weird to yell 'kitty kitty kitty' to seemingly nobody. So, he settled on calling for fast food instead. Good job.]
Burger?
[action] .... XD HENRY
[But knowing Cujo... he couldn't keep quiet about it for long.]
[Suddenly straightening up intensely, he faced the kitten and let out a low WOOF.]
[... And then clambered up as well as he could on the shingles and went tearing down the length of the roof at poor little Burger. Did he mean harm? No, not at all. Could this situation END in harm? ... QUITE POSSIBLY.]
Wh-- CUJO! HEY!
[action] THE SANDWICH WHISPERER
[Then he hears the woof. Whipping around, he notices the fuzzy Mortal Kombat scene several feet above him.]
Burger! Come here!
[Meanwhile, Burger arches his back and starts winding his tail, hoping it looks threatening because HE WAS SUPER THREATENING FF FF FF FF. He doesn't back down and starts swatting and spitting at Cujo once the growlithe is up in his business.]
[action] HENRY, YOU HAVE A GIFT.
[Rump in the air, he faces the kitten Pokemon with a few friendly growls, tail bobbing. Until Burger starts hissing and swiping at him, anyway. OW Y U NO LIKE ME :(]
[Still, he's hoping maybe if he bounces around enough, this NEW FRIEND might get the idea that he wants to play, so in his usual wriggly dog fashion, he sort of... leaps off to the side.]
[... Apparently forgetting that he was on a rooftop.]
CUJO!
[And that would be a teenage girl diving down a shingled roof on her stomach after the dog that was skidding downwards. ... Sort of right at Henry.]
[action] AND A FEW BRUISES
[Henry fretted and looked around for some way to climb the roof. He was used to following oddly placed ladders and holes. He didn't know how to clamber onto somebody's roof. When Heather shouted, Henry looked back up.]
[He saw it happening. Two instincts within him warred--the first was PROTECT GIRL FROM FRACTURING SKULL. The other was PROTECT HENRY FROM FRACTURING SKULL. Neither of them got around to do anything because Mr. Townshend promptly found himself at the bottom of a heap of OUCH.]
Aah!
[action] WITH GREAT BRUISES COME GREAT RESPONSBILITY.
[You have now physically encountered the girl who the guy who locked you into your apartment was a replacement for. How does this make you feel?]
[From somewhere on top of the pile of dazed pooch-and-photographer, Heather rolled off onto the ground. Out of the three, she probably hurt the least, having had a cushion to land on.]
OW! Uh-- holy shit, dude, I'm sorry!
Are you-- are you ALIVE?
[action] HE IS NOODLE MAN
...Yes.
[Burger game gracefully skidding down the roof top, hopped off onto somebody's mailbox, and landed lightly on the street.]
"Glam'yow?"
[action] MORE FLEXIBLE THAN A RUBBER BAND
[In any case, Cujo is on top of him, so he will... happily be trying to lick Henry's face now that he's not falling anymore. This... may not be the best thing to happen to somebody traumatized by long-tongued dogs, but HE IS DOING IT ANYWAY because he just met Henry and he loves him.]
Shit, shit, shit, dude, I'm SO sorry-- I-- is that your cat?
[action] KEEPS YOUR PAINTBRUSHES TOGETHER SO YOU CAN FIND THEM
Yes-- yes, Burger's mine, I'm sorry he bothered you!
"Glaaoow." [Burger ignores his trainer and calmly licks himself, winding that crazy long tail around his feet.]
[action] EXCEPT WHEN HE'S STOLEN THEM TO USE IN SOME WEIRD ABSTRACT ART EXPERIMENT
Dude, it's okay, man, it's a free rooftop, after all-- actually, I wasn't even s'pposed to be up there, so-- ... uh. Sorry.
[action] YOU WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND
It's okay...[Henry makes the closest thing he can to a frown and directs it at the Glameow who couldn't have cared less. Burger had important shit to do like staring at a dying bit of sunlight reflected off someone's window] He started climbing and just...didn't stop. I guess it's a cat thing.
[He glances at Heather but leaps through hoops to avoid eye contact with her. He rubs his side where her foot connected.]
I've seen you on the poke'gear before.
[action] YOU'RE RIGHT, I WOULDN'T. IT'S JUST TOO DEEP.
I, uh-- .... yeah, actually-- hey, you're the guy with the photos and the ghosts and stuff, right?
[Yes, Heather, in fact, that's actually his official title. The Guy With the Photos and the Ghosts.]
[action] YOU'RE TOO MANESTREAM /smokes lucky strikes
That's me. And you're...
[...Henry didn't have a cool title for Heather. She was just that girl that kind of halfway made fun of him but was usually helpful in the end. That was too long of a title for him to say out loud.]
That Girl. Ah!
[Growing bored with the sunbeam, Burger decides to CLIMB HIS TRAINER with those hellishly sharp baby claws of his and rest on his shoulder with his tail wrapped around Henry's EVERYTHING. c: best perch.]
This is Burger. And I'm Henry.
[action] ;-; IT'S NOT MY FAULT I SHOP AT SEARS.
... I... guess that's me.
I'm Heather, and this is Cujo...
[A pause.]
... you seriously named it Burger?
[HAD SHE ASKED THAT BEFORE? She didn't even remember.]
[action] COOL PEOPLE SHOP IN THE DUMPSTERS
...Yes.
[He looks at his feet and lapses into silence for a moment, watching the orange ball of DERP carefully...and then looking back up on the roof. They had come quite a way down...no wonder he was starting to feel sore.]
What were you doing up there?
[Not the first time somebody's fallen out of FUCKING NOWHERE in his general area but...at least he knew WHERE Heather came from.]
[action] ;-; I OWN TOO MANY L.L. BEAN MAGAZINES TO BE COOL
I was watchin' the sunset.
[Rubbing the back of her neck, she points to the skyline-- sunsets fade fast, so it's on its way out, but it's still pretty breathtaking.]
[action] YOU PROBABLY HAVE A MYSPACE
[Henry had been to jittery to really LOOK at the nature in his new town. He looks past her and finally notices it. It...really was pretty! A leeetle tiny smile appears on his face as he tugs his 'gear out to get a picture of it.]
Finally...a photo without that owl in it.
[action] ;-; I GOT IT IN HIGH SCHOOL
... The one that's been following you?
[HEATHER REMEMBERS.]
[action] UNACCEPTABLE
[Henry eyes the photo to see how it turned out on the little screen. OWL FREE SUNSET GET. He turns and holds it awkwardly up to Heather so that she can see a picture of...the sunset she's already been looking at.]
If you change the settings, it cuts the glare down.
[SHE DOESN'T CARE, HENRY.]
[action] UNACCEPTABLE
[But she sort of smiles and nods anyway, because... because it's the nice thing to do.]
You should upload it on your 'Gear later so everyone can see how it turned out.
[action]
[He rubs his side again and starts to shuffle off, keeping to the center of the road just in case any more girls decided to fall on him.] We'd better go... C'mon, Burger.
[action]
... Sorry again, about the... falling thing!
[But she'll let him go... what an odd fella. :I]