foolishwren | 87. [Text/Action for Ecruteak in the evening]

Current Mood: crushed
Current Location: Ecruteak City

87. [Text/Action for Ecruteak in the evening]

_{[The following is sent out network-wide.]}

[Text]

gonna be gone today

won't be back till late

if it's important leave a message and I'll get it later

[Note left on the bedside table in hotel room, for Harry Mason and Henry Townshend]

Gotta take care of something

Won't be at work.

See you guys later in time for dinner probably

-Heather

[ACTION]

_{[There's a little rec center towards the south end of Ecruteak City. Given that the town's full of old people, it doesn't see a whole lot of activity.]

[But today, someone passing by might notice a small group of Pokemon hanging out JUST inside the door-- normally Pokemon waiting for their trainer would be playing or gamboling outside in the snow, but they look unusually subdued. Butch the Quagsire and Alessa the Absol, probably recognizable to anyone who's spent a significant amount of time around Heather, are sitting in the chairs by the entrance, although they're accompanied by two new faces...]

[A babbling Wooper is cuddled up to Butch's side, and a small, purple ball of fur is nestled deep into the Absol's bristly mane, not moving aside from the occasional little shiver or reflexive squirm as Alessa lifts her head to give it a gentle nudge every so often.]

[They're Heather's Pokemon, all right-- plus two of Kaito Kuroba's, Flapper the Wooper and Biz the Aipom, and they're clearly hunkered down morosely in the front lobby of the rec center, probably waiting for Heather.]

[But... where WAS Heather?]

[Smiling.]

[At the end of the letter, he'd told her to keep smiling.]

[Well, she couldn't do that. Maybe later. Maybe in a few hours, or tomorrow. But not today. Sorry, buddy...]

[If anyone actually went into the recreation center's lobby to see why the hell Heather's Pokemon were just sitting there, waiting around, they would likely hear it-- the repeated thwak THWAK THUD of someone viciously venting their spleen on a punching bag.]

[Which is exactly what she was doing, and HAD been doing for the past god knows how many hours. She hadn't even looked outside since she'd gotten there in the morning-- for all she knew it was past dark. She didn't know and she didn't really care, either-- which actually surprised her. She'd left that note for her father and Henry specifically with the intention of guilting herself into returning when she'd told them, because hey. They'd worry.]

[That wasn't good, she knew. Getting so sucked into hitting something that she didn't even care about getting 'home' on time. That sure was a throwback to the old high school years, wasn't it.]

[But hey... she wasn't punching a wall or a tree this time.]

[That was an improvement, right...?]}

[OOC: PokeGear responses will be replied to around 10:00 at night, when Heather returns home from beating the shit out of gym equipment. 8I]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He wanted to call. Oh, he did. But, you see, after spending half of last night making calls that never reached, a person gets kinda tired of those. And it's not like he'd be able to say anything anyway -- the only sounds he's managed to make in the past 24 hours were different sorts of cries, sobs and, if that counts, wall- and floor-punching.

But he's somehow managed to force himself to type. Which is good enough.

... Except, what is he supposed to type? Heather already knows; there's... nothing to add.

So there, Heather. When you stop killing the punching bag and check your Gear again, you'll find an empty message from a familiar number.]

_{[It's okay. She understands. Completely.]

[In fact, she's pretty sure the only person who's going through EXACTLY what she is right now is Crow. ... Well, maybe not EXACTLY, but... close enough.]

[When she comes back to the room, she's exhausted. She had walked back through the snow without putting her coat back on-- despite the bitterness, the cold felt good after all that overheating in there...]

[Needless to say, when she receives the empty text, she doesn't respond to it in kind.]

[Instead, Crow will hear a knock on his door.]}

[Close enough is good, too. Heck, that's the only reason he's made that pathetic attempt to contact her -- he's not even sure if he wants to talk to anyone right now, but if it was Heather... then maybe it wasn't such a bad option after all.

Therefore, when Heather knocks on the door, she will hear some muffled grumble that... doesn't sound like any word at all, but at least is an indication someone is inside. That works as an invitation, no...?]

_{[... YEP. Close enough.]

[Heather takes that as a sign that she's allowed entrance. So the door opens and Heather pokes her head in.]}

Hey.

You alive in there?

_{[Her tone is light, like it normally is when she greets him and their other friends. But it's a little bit husky-sounding, too. Either she's been doing a whole lot of yelling, or a whole lot of cr-- ... well, she'll just stick with the yelling.]}

["Alive" is a relative term.

When Heather enters the room, she'll find Crow crouching on the sofa, knees pressed against his chest and head buried into a pillow that he's holding onto like his life depended on it. He's trembling, too, and one can notice his knuckles are slightly reddened -- and faint red strains on the walls here and there should explain why.

The duelist slowly raises his head at the question, revealing a rather miserable image: his hair is a mess (more than usually, that is), eyes are swollen and red from crying, lacking the energy and cheerfulness that can be usually found there, face is drenched with tears.

Crow Hogan does not handle loss very well.

He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. Instead, some more tears make their way down his cheeks and he turns his gaze away, not because he's ashamed of them as he would be any other time, but rather because he... honestly has no idea what to do.

In the corner of the room, there are two birds watching the scene: a Pidgeot, Crow's Gale, and a Pidgeotto, one that Heather will probably recognize as Kaito's Komi. Both look very sad, but knowing there's nothing they can to, they keep quiet.]

_{[... Oh, Crow...]

[By comparison, Heather is far more composed-- although her red-rimmed eyes betray her. Not that long ago, she hadn't been doing much better than Crow... The main difference being that Heather tended to get it out with violence. The tears... those tended to just be a byproduct.]

[She stands in the doorway for a moment, just watching him. Then steps in. He's obviously not going to invite her in verbally.]}

I figured you could use some company.

_{[She heads over to the couch, glancing at the birds as she goes and mumbling a "Hey, Komi..." before sitting down on the edge of the cushion and lifting a hand to set down what she'd brought with her-- a bottle of wine, still with a bow on it from when it had come in the mail from Barney around Christmastime.]}

[He doesn't even have to look at her to figure she's not doing much better. Their reactions may be different, but the reason behind them remains the same.

Crow doesn't reply, just nods as she walks across the room. To tell the truth, he's really grateful for that, even if he can't really express it right now -- being left alone with his sorrow for any longer probably wouldn't have done him much good.

He glances at the bottle she brought, still sniffling, and then... gives her a somewhat questioning look, not sure if he's getting the implication right. If he does, however, then this might be one of the best ideas he's heard the whole day. ... Granted, he'd prefer something stronger (like maybe vodka or whiskey) now, but hey, if you can't get what you like, you like what you get.]

_{[Yeah, if she'd had her choice it would've been something a little harder too, but... hey, the bottle was there, and let's be honest, what else is she gonna use it for?]

[She holds it up by the neck and waggles it a little bit.]}

Got any cups around?

[I hear they make awesome paperweights.

... is probably what Crow would usually respond to the bottle waggling in front of him, but this time he just nods again before slowly putting away the pillow (wow, this feels weird, he's been squeezing it for like five hours and his arms are kinda stiff from it) and getting up (again, wow this feels weird and ow his legs). He moves to the bedside table and grabs two cups from it -- which don't exactly look like wine glasses or anything, but they'll work. The duelist then comes back to the sofa and falls back to it, handing Heather the cups.

When was the last time she saw him silent for this long, anyway?]

_{[Hell, she's fairly sure she's NEVER seen him this silent for this long.]

[She takes the cups and sets them down on the little table beside the couch, busying herself with getting the damn cork out of the bottle.]

[Dropping the casual pretense for the moment, she lowers her voice a little bit.]}

... I've got Biz and Flapper.

They're back in my room with Dad'n'Henry'n'the other Pokemon...

[Crow watches Heather's uneven fight with the cork, not eager to meet her eyes. Oh. Cool. Kaito's Biz and Kay's Flapper are still here... that's good. That last word isn't very likely to make its way past his lips tonight, so he just nods once again (funny, he hasn't limited himself to non-verbal communication only since he was like six and never expected to do that again, but apparently shit happens). The fact those two Pokémon are still here is... comforting, in a way, if that word can even be used right now.

Finding himself unable to contribute to this (rather one-sided so far) conversation, Crow pulls his legs back up to his chest and quietly watches the birds in the corner.]

_{[Eventually Heather was able to pop the cork out-- after a lot of struggle. She had continued to talk even as she poured it into the two cups.]}

Someone sent me this for Christmas. M'not sure how good it'll taste but hey, beggars can't be choosers, right?

_{[She passes one of the glasses to him before setting the bottle down and taking the other one for herself.]

[She's silent for a moment or two, herself-- just sitting there with the glass and staring idly at the somber bird Pokemon. ... Then, quite suddenly, she speaks up once more, tone almost comically casual but holding a telling quiver.]}

Crow, if you don't talk to me soon, I'm probably gonna lose my shit and go into Pathetic Uncontrollable Crying: Round Two, so... help me out and throw me a bone, here.

[He takes the cup from her and spends another few minutes staring at it blankly. Then, without any warning, he gulps down all its contents at once. This would probably gain him a scolding from any connoisseur (or... anyone who cares about his well-being, really), but man, who the fuck cares? Crow sure doesn't. He needed this.

Finally, he speaks up, his voice trembling and hoarse from all the crying he's done tonight.]

He said he wouldn't go anywhere.

[A brief pause.]

Dumbass.

_{[She's not gulping down the wine. She wants to get buzzed, not choke. But she's silent for a time too, before mumbling.]}

Yeah.

He told me that too.

_{[It's unfair to resent him for it. He had no more choice of when to go than anyone did. But he'd also told her that he wanted to go home... and as much as it makes Heather sort of sick to think it, one of her first reactions to realizing he was gone for real was to be angry. At him.]}

[It might be difficult to get drunk with just one bottle for two of them and his fairly good alcohol tolerance, but hey, it's worth a shot.

Crow wants to be angry. He wants to be able to blame someone for what happened, to yell at them, to beat them up, to take revenge-- but there's no one to blame. So that leaves him angry at Kaito, even if he knows his friend had no say in this.

He leans back on the sofa with a loud sigh, staring at the celling now.]

... It's... not that bad, is it?

[His voice is quiet and almost calm, but the shivering of his hands betrays him. He slowly reaches up and pushes his headband down a little, so that the other cannot see his eyes water, his effort proving futile as tears begin to run down his cheeks once again.]

He missed Aoko. And he has stuff to do at home...

[Crow's well aware that Heather knows of Kaitou Kid and his quest to find Pandora -- Kaito told him she does -- so he's sure he doesn't need to go into details for her to understand.]

... maybe we should be happy for him.

[A part of him knows, too; Kaito didn't belong here. Well, none of them really did, but in Crow's eyes, Kaito had much more important reasons to go back to his world than just anyone else. He was doing it for his father. He needed to go back. He wanted to go back. It's better this way.

... So why is it so fucking hard to accept that he's gone?]

Edited 2012-01-25 17:14 (UTC)

_{[Unlike him, Heather doesn't have particularly great alcohol tolerance-- not that that ever stopped her from drinking her fair share at parties back when she was in high school...]

[But needless to say, she'll take whatever she can get right now.]

[She leans back against the couch, staring ahead.]}

... I think I can manage being happy for him later. You know, sometime down the line. Maybe in a few weeks.

But right now I can't say I give a shit.

_{[It's said flatly and sounds AWFUL, even to her-- like she's somehow betraying him. Betraying his memory. But she's not gonna lie, not gonna beat herself up for feeling bad because of some obligation to be happy that he's gone.]

[She'd spent so much time trying to convince HIM that it was all right to be sad at a friend's passing from this world... she couldn't go and be feeling guilty for her anger and hurt NOW. That would be hypocritical, and Heather doesn't like being a hypocrite if she can help it.]

[She tips the wine back to finish off the rest of the glass, then leans over to pour another one.]}

S'not like us being bitter whiners about this will make HIM feel bad. He'll never know.

What he doesn't know can't hurt'm.

_{[... Except that her eyes start stinging about 'he'll never know'. Yeah, he won't, because he's GONE. God dammit. So much for being the bitter gruff stoic asshole about this...]}

[So had Crow. Hell, he went as far as punch the magician for pulling off that "everything is fine" shit after Kay and Johan went back to their respective worlds. Not to mention nagging him about not forcing himself to hide his feelings when Aoko disappeared...

Crow may not be the shining example of avoiding hypocrisy -- quite the opposite, actually -- but he couldn't pretend he's okay now if he tried.]

... Yeah. Probably not.

[He extends the arm in which he's holding the cup with an unspoken request to fill it.]

Funny how you only realize how many things you wanted to tell a person only when they're gone.

[It was the same back when Kay and Johan disappeared... Back then, Crow told himself he wouldn't make the same mistake and hide anything from his friends or put things off; that he wouldn't let that happen again.

And again, he took a friend's presence for granted, convinced himself they had all time in the world. And once again, he was proved wrong. He was mad at Kaito for keeping Kaitou Kid a secret from him, but how was he any better? He never told him about Signers or war of gods or Pearson or... anything, really.

And it's too late to fix that now.]

_{[Heather probably would have done the same, had they not been miles apart when it happened.]

[She tips the bottle to fill Crow's cup again. She has to admit, the wine's pretty damn good. Better than the cheap booze that had always been at the parties in high school. She'll have to thank Barney for it later.]}

... Yeah.

There were ... a lot of things I wanted to tell him.

... Prob'ly wouldn't actually HAVE said 'em if he stuck around, but... now that he's gone...

_{[She kind of wishes she had. ... Or maybe it was better this way. ... No, yeah. It was probably better. Otherwise she'd have run the risk of the very same scenario that had played out when she had finally told her father who she was, all the way back in October of the previous year.]

[A confession... and then radio silence.]

[It had probably been too late to reasonably 'fess up a long time ago.]}

[The duelist thanks her with a nod and takes a sip from the cup, this time in a much more civilized manner. Yeah, it's really good -- not that he's an expert on wine, having only been treated to a fancy kind like once, but whatever. Point is, it tastes good. And might be helping a little bit.]

Maybe. Maybe not.

[Crow knows how she feels -- or at least he thinks he does, but again, close enough.]

... Think he'll... come back?

[His voice is unusually quiet when he says that. He's been asked if that's what he's hoping for, but with his past experiences with friends disappearing, it's hard to believe.]

_{[It's a question that Heather hasn't dared ask yet.]

[She doesn't want to even consider it... because she knows how unlikely it is to happen. Considering the question lets it in-- lets it get its foot in the door. And that means it'll hurt when it doesn't happen. It'll hurt so much more.]

[She doesn't reply at first, just sort of shaking her head hollowly.]}

... Maybe.

_{[That's what she'll concede to saying eventually, but it doesn't sound hopeful.]}

[He doesn't respond, having nothing to add to the topic. As much as he wants Kaito to come back -- even if it's a little selfish -- there's no use dwelling on that now. Instead, Crows goes back to staring down at his cup.

A few minutes pass before he finally speaks up again:]

I hate this place.

[... harsh words, and ones he may actually regret later on, but at this moment? Crow doesn't give a single fuck. If he can't be mad at any specific person, he's gonna be pissed off at the entire Johto.]

_{[Heather pauses, considering.]

[There's times when she doesn't know where she stands on it.]

[It's given her so much... her father, a second chance... a LIFE so much greater than the one she was living back home. Friends. A family.]

[... But it's also taken so much away. Frequently in the most painful way possible.]}

... Me too.

[That's the way Johto is: giving you everything, family, friends... an illusion that all is well, only to take it away when you least expect it.

Like now, for example.

Crow wants to say something to that, but finds himself at loss of words. That doesn't happen very often to him, but... what... is there to be said? He's tired; his head is pounding from all the crying and despite his pretty good alcohol tolerance, wine won't be exactly of any help here, but... damn, he just doesn't want to think anymore.]

To hell with this.

[And that marks another glass down.]

Hear, hear.

_{[Bottoms up.]

[She's already starting to feel a little fuzzy. She's not looking forward to the headaches in the morning (she's nursing one of her own right now, too), but whatever. She just needs a distraction.]}

... You gonna be able to sleep tonight?

Nah.

[As exhausted as he is, he can't really force himself to lie down peacefully. He doubts he'd be able to calm his mind enough to fall asleep anyway...]

You?

87. [Text/Action for Ecruteak in the evening]

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