Heather Mason (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
foolishwren) wrote2012-07-16 12:34 am
foolishwren) wrote2012-07-16 12:34 am
Entry tags:
- a winner is me,
- action,
- all your base are belong to me,
- aw yeah,
- big damn hero,
- cabin fever,
- calm before the storm,
- doesn't afraid of anything,
- don't do this at home,
- dramatic narration,
- ecruteak city,
- errybody was kung fu fightin,
- joltik,
- murkrow,
- pokemon,
- priorities,
- time for some thrilling heroics,
- vide,
- well that was fun,
- wren,
- yes this is a good use of my time
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?]
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]
[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?]
[action]
Your flavor preference, my lady~?
[He says teasingly]
[action]
[So instead she just gives him a half-hearted elbow.]
Enough with the 'my lady' crap. ... And chocolate, please and thanks.
[action]
You have good taste in ice cream.
[action]
I've got good taste in everything. Duh.
[action]
[leans against the cart, waiting for their vendor to finish]
[action]
[She holds out her hand for the finished cone as the vendor hands it over.]
[action]
I could make it Insult Heather Day, but I don't think I'm mean enough for that.
[action]
[... Or she would if she wasn't feeling like warmed-over roadkill.]
[She nods a thanks to the vendor before turning starting to vaguely head back in the direction they came.]
... Ugh, part of me doesn't even wanna eat this, just smear it all over my face.
[;-; SO HOT.]
[action]
[He does snicker at her statement, though]
I dunno if you wanna do that. You'll be sticky for ages afterward.
[action]
[Sob.]
[IT WOULD FEEL SO GOOD.]
[... But the only thing worse than being hot is being hot and STICKY, so she settles for taking a healthy CHOMP out of the scoop, not bothering to lick. Maybe some brainfreeze will help.]
[action]
[action]
[Scrunching her face up, she pinches the bridge of her nose. Ow.]
Guess that wasn't a good idea...