84. FOURTH WALL video/action/whatever. GO NUTS. Backdated a little to the morning.

[foolishwren]

<sub>[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.]</sub>

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.

<sub>[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.]</sub>

HEY GUYS. Who wants to watch me CLEAN SHIT?

<sub>[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.]</sub>



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.]}

Comments

[foolishwren]

<sub>[... Okay, so she absolutely spun in the direction of the owl's hoot outside with the knife. Can you really blame her?]

[The words continue to rake her metaphorical hackles on end-- it's almost like actual FINGERS running up and down her spine and that makes her feel sick inside.]

[At last, she steps out from behind the counter, her breathing shallow and fast. Her mind is working frantically... 'Belong together'? Stanley? ... No. Stanley terrified her, but not like this. He didn't think she was a murderer, he thought she was an angel. Which was... fucking disturbing, but still. Not relevant. She shoves Stanley out of her mind.]

[But if not Stanley, who...?]</sub>

... Yeah.

_{[The answer leaves her lips before she's even aware of it, and it's in a small, shaky voice. ... But then she thinks about it for a second. ... When she speaks up again, it's a little less shaky. So WHAT if she's scared? So fucking WHAT? That never stopped her in Silent Hill!]}

I am.

But if you know anything at all about me, you know that I can still fight anything. ANYTHING.

_{[She'd been a scared little girl with a puny little knife (... okay, and a sub-machine gun.) when she had brought God down, too.]}

What do you WANT, anyway?

[walkwithbob.livejournal.com]

<sub>[Oh, he's been waiting for that question. Laura Palmer had asked him that a lot. Little, dirty, fucking Laura Palmer, with her drugs and her sex and her screaming and her death.]

[That hadn't gone according to plan. Neither had the other one. But the beauty about it is that he can keep going, keep trying. He's got a lot of seedlings to look after.]

[To treat just so...]

[Again, there's no time with this one, not really. But she's pretty fun. Too fun to leave alone. He knows her better than she knows herself - at least, that's what he's going to tell her.]

[Later, maybe. Not now.]</sub>

Little Heather Mason, haven't you figured it out?

How are you going to FIGHT SOMETHING YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND?

_{[The last - strongly, in an outburst, followed by a growling sound, a dog in a corner.]}

[foolishwren]

<sub>[It's a good thing there's no time-- and it's ALSO a good thing that Heather Mason has been through too much to be easily broken-- or completely broken at all. Sometimes you just reach a point... it could be said that she reached that point somewhere around twenty years ago, when she'd been a charred, oozing stump of flesh that was strapped to a bed in the basement.]

[... But she doesn't know about the time limitations, or even, really, the extent of her own strength. Even if she can't be broken, she can still be scared.]

[The sudden outburst and that canine growl drag a sound out of her that's too soft to be a shriek but too loud to be a squeak-- no smart replies for once, eh Heather?]

[She spins around, wild-eyed, knife still held out threateningly.]

[Where had that come from?!]</sub>

[walkwithbob.livejournal.com]

<sub>[From .. nowhere?]

[Rather suddenly, he's not in her head anymore. She can probably tell the moment he leaves her. It's a relief that's almost physical because no matter what he says, he doesn't belong in her head, or anyone's.]


[It only takes a moment for a low ringing sound to be heard in the room as everything goes dark, though. The low, shrill sound she's undoubtedly had in her ears on more than one occasion, maybe from gunshots resonating a little too loud, from someone screaming JUST a little too close.]

[Except this ringing doesn't let up.]

[And there's a cold, white-blue light that starts shining on her. There's no real light source.]


[There's a shadow moving outside the windows, and then it's gone. It could have been flying, maybe. Was it flying?]</sub>

[foolishwren]

<sub>[OH yeah. You BET she can feel that.]

[It's probably a sad testament to the life (lives...) Heather has lived, that having a presence-- a sometimes-sinister presence-- inside her is not a foreign feeling. Perhaps that was why, as gut-wrenching as it was, having that unwanted voice in her head right now, it hadn't hit her harder.]

[But that relief, that weight lifted when it leaves? You never forget a feeling like that.]

[It's like the feeling you get after throwing up. ... In more than one way, in Heather's case.]

[She lets out a breath she hadn't even known she'd been holding, then draws it back in shakily.]</sub>

What... what's going o-- ...

_{[AUGH, the light-- where is that COMING from? Wincing, she shields her eyes, wishing she could pin her ears against that ringing-- it's a familiar tone, for sure. But that doesn't mean it's a welcome one.]}

HEY!

What's going ON?!

[walkwithbob.livejournal.com]

<sub>[There's another light in the room, and she'll probably notice the moment she's no longer blinded by her own. It's on the far end, among the booths and tables, and it's shining on a rather tall man with wild grey hair and a grin to match who's standing amongst them.]

[His head is slightly tipped forward like he's ready to charge at her, but he remains still except for the occasional shift in his smile.]

[You know this guy, don't you Heather?]</sub>

[foolishwren]

<sub>[She lifts her hand, squinting against the light. But any relief at the fact that it's not blinding anymore is pretty much stripped away at the sight of the wild-haired man across the room.]

[His appearance is alarming all on its own ... but even worse, the sight makes everything come flooding back.]

[Oh god.... oh god... the man in the laundry room.]

[She had forgotten... she had forgotten all about it. Like it had been wiped clean out of her head.]

[But now she remembers.]

[And even worse, she remembers something else... something too vague to put into focus. Sort of like Alessa's memories, before they'd been unsuppressed... but even vaguer. But somehow, there's that horrible, electric, paralyzing feeling that she's seen this man before.]

[Before the laundry room.]

[Somewhere.]

[She takes a step back, owl-eyed, but thrusts the knife out in front of her challengingly-- violently.]</sub>

Stay BACK!

[walkwithbob.livejournal.com]

<sub>[He just grins even wider - and he does remain in his spot ... but only for a moment.]

[After that he slowly walks forward. Slowly and unrelentingly. There is a bit of distance between them and she could very well make a break for the door, but that doesn't stop him from being just that: slow.]

[Slow is just that much worse, isn't it?]

[It had certainly worked on Maddy Ferguson.]

[He's

coming

for

you.]</sub>

[foolishwren]

<sub>[Oh jesus christ...]

[Heather is suddenly very glad that she didn't stay inside the little shut-in area behind the counter. Before, it had felt a little like a safehouse-- some kind of stronghold.]

[But now, it would have felt like a cage. A dead end.]

[As he begins to walk towards her, every muscle in her tightens like a coiled spring. FIGHT OR FLIGHT is taking over and she's DEFINITELY very much into the FLIGHT option right now. This isn't like the monsters she's fought. He looks human-- even if she feels very strongly that he is MORE of a monster than the ones she killed back in Silent Hill-- and that FACE...]

[Gritting her teeth, she lets out a harsh snarl of her own and darts a hand out to FLING one of the nearby chairs in his direction before BOLTING for the door.]</sub>

[walkwithbob.livejournal.com]

<sub>[Oh, a chair. That's cute.]

[Needless to say, he doesn't care at all about that chair, and the fact that she's bolting doesn't bother him much either. She can run all she wants. He's not going to go out of his way to catch her.]

[In fact, once she reaches the door, the lights will go back to normal. The harsh spotlight on her fades away, the warm light inside the diner takes over, and that sound, annoying despite how low it is, disappears.]

[He's not there anymore.]

[He was never serious in his pursuit. He scared her BAD, and that pleases him enough.]




[There's something for her to find when she comes to look though, near where he stood. Smears of ... something ... on the floor that spell out FIRE WALK WITH ME.]

[It's messy. And it will also fade away in front of her eyes.]




[The owl calls one last time, there's an impossibly loud flap of wings, and it's gone with the wind.]</sub>

[foolishwren]

<sub>[hey for a diner there's surprisingly few sharp objects around to throw okay. jeez bob cut her some slack here]

[But in any case, she's out the door and into the cold-- and it's a good half-hour or so before she returns. Not that she went far... her stuff was all still inside, and she wasn't about to go all the way back to the hotel through the snow in short sleeves and a skirt...]

[So she pretty much tromped around fretfully outside for thirty minutes, watching the completely empty and warmly-lit space inside the window, before finally slipping back in, walking as though expecting she'd need to bolt at any moment.]

[But of course all she can find are the words... which melt away right as she looks at them. But not fast enough for her to not read them. Fire walk with me...]

[... She recognizes that.]

[And she knows where she heard it, too.]

[Oh, man...]</sub>