foolishwren | 97. [Action for Goldenrod/Private Text]

97. [Action for Goldenrod/Private Text]

[Locked to Ironhide, Minnie Mouse, Otacon, and Dale Cooper]

I don't know if it'll fix anything at this point, because I said some pretty horrendous things to all of you, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry.

I'll understand if you're still mad. None of you need to reply to this.

[Action for Goldenrod]

_{[It's probably not surprising that there's been radio silence from Heather on the 'Gear for awhile, considering... well, everything. Even if she hadn't had her 'Gear confiscated as part of the 'grounding', she hadn't exactly been in a chatty mood.]

[But even if she's bound to the city, she's not bound to the hotel room, and considering that she's sort of in the doghouse at the moment, she's not too interested in staying cooped up with the people who are rightfully upset with her.]

[So she can be found wandering the streets of Goldenrod City with Cujo padding along at her side, window-shopping or occasionally lounging on a bench-- minus the firepowers that blew the metaphorical Diglett-hole into a volcanic mountain a few weeks ago, but unfortunately still with the unattractive aftereffects of the whole ordeal: smoky black hair, patches of scorched-looking skin, and a permanent burnt-toast smell following her around.]}

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Then explain.

_{[She spends a good fifteen minutes writing, then deleting, then writing again, then deleting again, before finally giving up and sending:]}

can we talk instead of type

All right.

Talking now.

_{[The sudden sound of his voice startles her slightly and it's a moment of staring down at the 'Gear in her palm before she gives in and just ... decides to jump right in. He asked her to explain, so she won't try and justify or prelude the whole thing with a bunch of useless lip-flapping.]}

... When I was little, my name wasn't Heather.

It was Alessa.

And I didn't live with Dad. _{[... Well, except that she HALF-had, but... no. She thinks she'll leave the part about splitting her soul and being reborn out. That's hard enough to explain to another person, much less an alien...]} I lived with-- ... with the person who gave birth to me. _{[Because like hell is she ever going to refer to Dahlia as 'mother' again. ... At least not right now. Not after... all this.]}

i KNOW I worried my father

I don't like that I did but there was no avoiding it, he couldn't come with me


I am not losing him again

_{[When she looks at him, at first it's with a hard expression. She's spent most of this whole ordeal being defensive, ready to hurl peoples' arguments back at them at a split second's notice. But at the sight of his expression, she softens, herself (though she doesn't smile) and looks away, again.]}

Yeah. It does.

[He might actually have taken her literally there, which was a good call on her part.]

[He listens though, quietly. Waiting for a pause or something to tell him it's all right to speak.]

Your father changed your name?

Not far at all. I'm just lucky there was no one around to tell you these stories when you were younger.

That reminds me. Has Henry figured out what's happened to his cigarettes yet?

... Yeah... I guess they do...

_{[With a smile that's... a little bit bittersweet, she leans on the railing and lapses into silence, watching the struggling duo down below.]}

[Seeing her drop the hard look, even if just by a bit, makes him feel sort of... relieved. It's like a wall that grew between them thanks to that entire incident has finally begun to crumble. Which is good enough for now.

Crow picks up the unopened soda can that's been lying on the bench this entire time and stretches his arm in Heather's direction with an unspoken offer, though his attention goes back to his own drink.]

C'mon, I ain't thirsty enough to drink it all by myself.

You're not hurt, right?

[Not that he doesn't believe she's a capable fighter or that he completely disregarded her saying that Claudia wouldn't try to kill her...but still, she did tell him she was going after a murderer. He pauses, before sighing lightly.]

What happened?

[He doesn't even really realize it, but along with the concern there's also a tone of 'did you win, did it fix things' in that question.]

_{[That's the intent, really... and she pauses to answer him, in a calm voice that hides the roiling sea of emotion that makes up her feelings whenever she broaches this subject at all.]}

Yeah.

To protect me.

_{[She doesn't elaborate further than that-- doesn't want to get ahead of herself. But all the same, there's the unspoken reassurance that he's free to ask questions if he likes. She doesn't want this to be a brick wall of a monologue... not even sure if she can HANDLE a brick wall of a monologue.]}

I was... really little. I didn't have many friends. We were poor and weird and people didn't like us much. I had one friend. A little younger than me. We were together a lot. After school, you know...

_{[A pause because man, she's ALREADY encountering difficulty finding the words. How do you describe growing up in a cult? Growing up in Silent Hill? Being Alessa?]}

But, uh...

Humans sometimes... families are great. When a human has a kid, most of them wanna... you know, protect them and make them happy and watch them grow up.

But some parents don't.

Sometimes people have a kid and ... do things to them.

They do really, really bad things to them.

... your father changed your name to protect you from these others? That about right?

[He's trying to guess at the story, in case that would... help something.]

And yeah. I know of some things your kind will do to its own.

[The internet was a good teacher, in that respect. Not that he sounds happy about it. Far from it.]

[He's always had a very soft spot for kids. Of any species.]

Yeah.

_{[Another short answer. Because that's basically it.]

[And to be honest, she's a little relieved he already knows about the existence of child abuse. Because that, quite frankly, is not something she was looking forward to explaining. She takes a breath and continues.]}

My friend's father was... he hurt her, so much, and god, she was so fuckin' tiny and sweet, and he'd just... wail on her.

I just ... wanted to keep her safe.

I kept on promising her things would get better.

_{[All those joint praying sessions, the crayon drawings of sunny fields and flowers and animals surrounding them... The knowledge that she'd been meant for something special that Mommy had said would make things happy for all the children.]}

She was so little and she already had to deal with her... monster of a parent, and I didn't wanna scare her, so...

I never told her what mine was doing to me.

I see.

[Silence.]

[Not because she's said something wrong. Not because he's having a hard time following.]

[If he speaks now, he is going to shout. He is going to lose his temper -- his control over his anger. Which would be entirely counter-productive to this whole thing.]

[Children, innocents... should not be harmed. It goes against his most basic programming. One of the largest reasons he had defected to begin with.]

Still here, kid.

Listening.

[His voice is tight, heavily controlled.]

_{[At his dead silence, she does pause, briefly. It's not that she thinks he'd still be pissed at her, not when she's talking about THIS, but not even she can get rid of that stupid, irrational, instinctive fear of disapproval. It's all too easy to slip back into her long-ago childhood self's shoes when she talks about this, so it's a relief to hear him speak up, even if she can hear the tension in that voice.]}

'right.

I, uh... I thought it'd get better. Thought if I was... _{[A good girl.]} ... I thought I could make it better.

_{[In many ways, Alessa had been more mature at age seven than Heather feels now, in a reborn body, more than two decades later. Steadfastly weathering the storm and trying to stay strong for Claudia, who had been even smaller than she. ... But seven years old was seven fuckin' years old and Alessa had been as naiive and desperate to please her beloved (and yes, she had loved Dahlia) mother as any other lonely child.]}

... And then one day, it got so bad that... that...

_{[There's a rustle, because the only thing she can really do at the end of that sentence is rake her hand through her hair and hope that it somehow stimulates the right words. It doesn't.]}

... It was awhile before Dad got me out of there.

[Mostly, he's not sure what to say that wouldn't end in shouting. Not at her, but in general. Shouting... just won't solve anything, he knows.]

But you did get out. Your father was there.

[He's really not good at this comfort or Deep Personal Issue thing. But he's trying.]

[He's trying hard -- to keep the anger out of his voice, to keep his tone level and as as supportive as possible.]

_{[Her response is a weak-- very weak-- chuckle. Because... well, yes. She had. Seven years of hell had been endured first, but she had. But in the end, that's not really the important part. The important part is who didn't get out.]}

... That woman... she was a monster.

It didn't matter who you were. Good or bad, she'd use you till you couldn't be used anymore and then she'd find some new way to get her money's worth out of you, all while turning her sights onto everyone around you. Everyone.

By the time she was through with a person, they'd be twisted into pretzels and not even knowing what to think. Maybe even thinking she was the one in the right, and if she couldn't do that, well, those people tended to disappear. Hell, she even did it to Dad. Had everyone tied in knots around her fingers. ... Had me that way, too, till I realized the truth. _{[Until she'd thrown in her aces and left Alessa a broken mess in a basement until she could be useful again. Until she'd MADE Alessa that way.]

I thought if I could just make her happy, she'd...

[... But no, that's not the point of this. Heather heaves a sigh.]}

But yeah. Dad got me out. And it was good. A fresh start. Y'know?

... Forgot all about what had happened back there for awhile, even.

[This is... making his spark ache. Maybe they haven't known one another as long as he's known some -- as long as she's known some -- but All Spark, he sees so much of his own charge in her.]

[The protective drive is just as strong. And he would like nothing more than to pick the girl up, and empty the chamber of the Heavy Iron into anyone who would wrong her.]

[But that isn't feasible.]

[That isn't helpful.]

[Which leaves the old soldier at a loss for what to do with himself, and for her. He can listen, and that's about it. But he's never been good with what he deems to be 'inaction'.]

[He passes a hand over his face.]

Father is a good man. One of those Prime would have respected.

[A beat.]

More to it though, hmn?

That sounds good, then! I'd really just...oh! It looks like your little guy is making friends with Cougar!

[Despite his massive size, Cougar is a TOTAL bro. Who doesn't look anything like a cougar, but he's strong like Cougar...He squats down so he can get a better look at Cujo, greeting him happily with a salute. Hello, different Pokémon!]

...'Again'?

DEAD


back home he is dead


D E A D

dead dead dead dead

_{[... And then, about five seconds later (because second thoughts).]}

sorry


that was probably the rudest fucking way for you to find out about that

[Well, y'know, after backing the fuck up from her Gear and that message like it was a snake about to bite her...]

That 'something' that turned up was a 'someone', wasn't it.

His killer.

Is that it?

He was murdered and you went after his killer.

_{[A muffled laugh as she leans forward, elbows on her knees and hands clasped between.]}

No... I told him he ought to find a better hiding place, but he didn't listen...

_{[Wordlessly, she reaches over and takes the can, popping the tab with her thumb. It's a thoughtful peace offering, because even if Crow doesn't know it, ever since coming down with the 'superpower-sickness', Heather's found herself thirsty almost constantly.]}

... I'm sorry.

For taking your Pokemon.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 6 of 17

97. [Action for Goldenrod/Private Text]

[text]

[text]

[voice]

[voice]

text;

[Action]

[voice]

Action

[Action]

[Action]

[Audio]

[voice]

[voice]

[voice]

[voice]

[voice]

[voice]

[voice]

[voice]

no subject

text;

text;

text;

Action

[Action]