foolishwren | 95. [Video/Action for Ecruteak] Slightly backdated, early afternoon on the 15th

_{[Before anything else, Heather's voice: a little husky and hoarse-sounding, but otherwise high-spirited.]}

Hey.

Hey guys.

Watch this.

_{[Is she aware of the strange outbreaks and Team Rocket threats all over the news? Yes. Yes, she is. Should she be spending her time being concerned about this? Probably.]

[But she has much better things to do with her time.]

[Like film Wren the Murkrow skittering across the top of the coffee table in their Ecruteak Inn room with a tiny plastic battleaxe toy in her beak, where she proceeds to bull over a GeoDude (tm) superhero action figure with a viciousness appropriate for the battlefield. Which is what is being broadcast, of course.]

[What follows is a series of cuts showing her triumph over various other toys (pretty obviously grabbed from a discount bin in some shop somewhere), including Armaldo Schwarzenegger and Darmanitanman ("The Meditation Sensation!") and even a figurine of Barnaby the Shiny Charizard.]

[In several of the shots, Heather's other Pokemon are visible-- Arty the Furret looking on in contempt and Cheryl the Eevee watching in utter fascination over the edge of the table. At one point, the fuzzy baby Joltik she'd hatched a few months back skitters onto the scene, eager to help, but is promptly chased off the table again by the axe-wielding Murkrow, who apparently is a Lone Warrior who needs no assistance.]

[The whole time, Heather is humming ominous theme-music and jiggling the camera in that classic 'found footage' way.]

[Eventually she turns the camera on herself to address the surely-enthralled audience solemnly. Her face is oddly flushed, strangely... although perhaps not, given the summer heat.]}

This has been a Public Services Announcement: my bird is an unstoppable killing machine. Nowhere is safe.

Keep your children in at ni-- oh noooo.

_{[As though on cue, the vaguely football-shaped black bird had come wriggling onto the screen again, clambering up Heather's arm to determinedly butt the side of her face with the toy axe. >:(!!!!]

[There's some 'fighting' and then the camera goes blank.]

[END FEED]}

[ACTION]

_{[With Wren successfully wrestled off into doing something else, Heather shuts the 'Gear and sets it aside, slumping back in her chair with a sigh. Even in shorts and the skimpiest top she owns, it's miserably hot. Enough to sort of make her head pound. She doesn't get it. She remembers the fading summer heat last September being pretty well-managed by all the whirring fans in the Inn...]

[Twisting around, she drapes herself over the back of the chair, poking her tongue out discontently.]}

Guys.

Guuuuuys.

Aren't you just dying in here? This heat is gross.

_{[The TV's on over in the corner. They're talking about the outbreak-- about all the people coming down with mysterious fevers.]

[But that's somewhere else. It can't touch any of them. .... Right?]}

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He needs to grow a spinal strut or two. I do not harm humans.

[He'll just threaten Henry to see him squeak.]

[BUT HE COMES IN, regardless. Probably looking huge.]

Hey, cut him some slack, wouldja? He's been through a lot.

_{[... Not necessarily more than the less-timid Heather and Harry, admittedly, but still!]

[The sound of the faucet rings out briefly, and then Heather re-emerges, hair plastered down over her head, which is soaked. Ahhh...]}

So have you. And you are not afraid of me. [He snorts, to himself.] You are basically fearless.

[Not that he sounds like he disapproves of it.]

[When she comes back, he raises an eyebrow at her.] Feel less like a fever?

_{[Okay, she can't help but grin through that dripping mop of hair at that. Not that she's ever thought Ironhide thinks poorly of her, but literal praise from him doesn't come that often.]}

Aw, that's just 'cause I'm special.

N'yeah. Much better.

Special, huh? That what they call it?

[Iron-Praise is a hard-won thing indeed. But she's done it.]

[He nods.]

Good. Maybe your interior just needed coolant... [He trails off, realizing that is ENTIRELY A ROBOT PROBLEM.] ... You know what I mean. Maybe you just. Needed that.

Mmhm.

_{[She pauses to give her head a dog-like shake, sluicing droplets of water in every direction. HEATHER DON'T GIVE A SHIT.]}

Man, I will never get used to all your weird robot terminology...

Watch it--!

[Ironhide it's just water, calm down.]

Yeah? Your terminology is still confusing to me.

_{[Careful, Ironhide-- make too much of a fuss and she'll come rub her head dry ON you.]

[She straightens up with a pointed smirk at him, before flopping down in the chair she'd been in before.]}

What's confusing?

I mean, come on. We're sacks of meat.

[And he would retaliate by holding her over a ledge by an ankle.]

[He shrugs.]

You find us confusing. You tell me the answer.

[He makes a face.] And do not call yourselves that. Decepticons used it.

_{[OPPRESSION!]}

--What, it's tr-- oh.

... Well, it is true.

_{[Body image gets a little skewed after you've been through Silent Hill.]}

So what if it is?

You still want to call yourself a Decepticon slur?

No one's ever actually called me that as a slur, so how can I even take it seriously?

I. Hn.

[How to say, "I don't like hearing you say those words" without... actually saying that?]

_{[If she were slightly more thoughtful, that might've occurred to her. Instead she just sort of kept looking at him earnestly. See, Ironhide? It doesn't hurt my feelings it's okay! c:]}

[He makes a face.]

[And then turns his head away.] Forget it.

95. [Video/Action for Ecruteak] Slightly backdated, early afternoon on the 15th

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