Heather Mason
04 November 2011 @ 05:33 pm
[It's about eight in the morning, the day after Halloween night. Juuuuust the right time for the bright early-morning sun to be shining in through everybody's windows. The Ecruteak Inn in particular is RIGHT in the perfect place for that light to be blaring in, which is why the first thing that shows on the screen (accompanied by the scrapes and jitters of somebody picking the 'Gear up) are the bright white bars of sunlight across the wooden inn-room floor.]

[The next thing it shows is ALSO covered in the bars of sunlight, but it's so BRIGHT that the glare actually maxes out the screen's capacity for a second or two before it adjusts and shows that the gleam is actually the sunlight reflecting in a million little points off of what seems to be a fairly impressive pile of NOT candy like one might expect there to be on somebody's floor after a successful night of trick-or-treating, but... shiny... things?]

[Yes. Shiny things. All kinds. Eyeglasses, doorknobs, strings of still-lit decorative Halloween lights, a genuine police badge, a set of handcuffs, a roll of foil tinsel, some well-polished pots and pans, small hand-held mirrors, coins of all shapes and sizes, more than a few pieces of (gulp) expensive-looking jewelry, a weathervane, several articles of clothing studded with those fake rhinestones, bottles of glitter (as one may imagine, the glitter is now EVERYWHERE), flashlights of all shapes and sizes (all of them are still turned on), a large (and opened) tube of "Sparkle Fun" toothpaste, what appears to be a small army of glossy Mr. Mime-shaped garden gnomes...]

[And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Somebody was productive last night.]

[The unmistakeable sound of a panting dog suddenly invades the speakers and a giant orange blur passes in front of the screen briefly, accompanied by the click-click-click of blunt claws on hardwood.Then the sound of licking, followed by a hoarse groan.]


Nnngh....

[Around this point, the view begins to zoom out. .... Erratically and jerkily, like the most poorly-filmed dramatic zoom-out in history, because instead of using the zoom button, the camera-holder is literally scooting backwards across the floor on his butt, all the way to his sleeping bag. Only then is the whole scene revealed.]

[Sprawled across the sparkly spoils of their night on the town are two very, VERY tired teens, now only partially-dressed as the thieving monkey and corvid they started the night out as. Kaito Kuroba is face-down on top of a small, tangled pile of beaded strings (you know, the rainbow-colored kind that hippies hang on their doors), with his monkey-ear headband slid down over the back of his head. And part two of the dastardly duo is flat on her back, half of her poncho rumpled up around her neck and her mask is halfway off. As is expected of someone like Heather, she bears the telltale marks of having apparently gotten into a physical FIGHT with someone at some point during the night, and somewhat LESS expected of someone like Heather, she also has what appears to be an infant Tyrogue clinging to one of her legs.]


[It's like The Hangover, ADD Teenager Halloween Edition.]

[The screen stops jittering once the filmer is safely settled on his sleeping bag once more.]

[Cujo is busy rousing his trainer by licking what's visible of her face while she mumbles protests and sort of feebly slaps him with one hand, while Kaito is dragging his face up off of his uncomfortable-looking pillow and squinting blearily in the bright morning light. Biz the Aipom scampers onto the screen and hops up on his trainer's shoulder to proudly present him one of the many wallets stolen during the night. Nobody particularly notices.]


Wh... huh...?

Cujo, go 'way ... where... whuhappen...

[At last, the mystery filmer finally speaks up, in that mild, quiet tone some of the network may be familiar with as coming from the scruffy, twitchy photographer that follows Heather and her father around and occasionally talks about serial killer owls.]


Oh, you two are up.

Mr. Mason says you have to give all that stuff back today.


[The two teens stare at him blearily, and then down at their piles. ... And then at themselves. Kaito reaches up to run his fingers through his hair and produces a small shower of glitter. Heather lifts her leg in the air with a mildly horrified expression at the pink... thing on her leg. Then they look back at Henry.]


[The feed cuts.]





[BUT A FEW HOURS LATER, a much-more-cleaned-up Heather will be popping onto the feed again, hair still sticking in every direction (she'd had it gelled to look like a Murkrow's head feathers) and glitter still sparkling pretty much... everywhere. ... Including her teeth, when she grins sheepishly.]


Uh... hey, guys... so um... Kaito and I found a bunch of... stuff... that was apparently stolen... by kids in costumes. That totally weren't us.

... So if some weirdos grabbed something from you last night, it might... totally be here.

Yeah.

Uh.

... Happy Halloween.




[OOC: Action for Kaito and roomies, obviously! Otherwise, if your character was in Ecruteak, feel free to assume that the dastardly duo nicked something from them and will be sheepishly returning it at some point today.
Blue
= Kaito, Orange = Heather, Brown = Henry.]
 
 
Yo, this is where I'm at: Ecruteak City Inn
I'm feeling: confused
 
 
Heather Mason
20 October 2011 @ 02:38 am
[Before the video shows anything, there's some shuffling sounds, and then the tell-tale noise of a cardboard package being ripped open. Then, Heather's voice, muffled at first, speaks up.]


... Again?

[She sounds surprised. ... Unpleasantly so.]

[The 'Gear is tugged out of her pocket at that point, its view wavering and then settling on the torn-open box she apparently just received by Dragonite delivery, in the Ecruteak inn lobby. The Dragonite in question is already slinging its mailbag over its shoulder and lumbering out the door, visible over the edge of the box.]

[Much like one of Heather's posts from earlier in the month, inside the box sits a single Pokeball. She had pulled out the 'Gear to check the Trainer ID, and doesn't realize it's on yet. There's some clacking noises as she thumbs the buttons a little distractedly... and then she gets her answer.]


... God dammit...

[Her voice had gone from surprised to resigned in a surprisingly short amount of time, but then, given the number of friends of hers disappearing lately... that's hardly surprising. And in this case, it's one that's hitting her a little harder than she might have previously thought. Of all the presences in Johto she hadn't even begun to think might up and poof out of existence one day... and this is one that she'd still had so many questions for.]

[That little praying mantis soul skittering down the streets in my head... that really WAS him, wasn't it.]

[She heaves a sigh and her hand appears, reaching into the box to take the ball out.]


Might as well see who I got...

[She presses the button with her thumb and triggers the obligatory flash of white light...]


.... What the-- ... aw, HELL.

[Wow. From surprised, to resigned, to.... indignant?]

[The dazzling light fades after a second or two, and shows....]


GENGKI--GEN GENGAR GAR GARRHH GURRH!

[... A Gengar that, if it were speaking English, would surely be cussing everyone and their grandmothers out in language so foul it would make a sailor blush. Heather is already recoiling from it, groaning out loud. Of course. Of course he'd leave her... THAT.]

God dammit... of all the-- HEY. Hey, GHOST... thing.

[Slightly the Gengar, who had clearly been cooped up in that ball for quite some time during transit and is now in the foulest of moods and wondering where the hell L is, turns his red-eyed glare on Heather, and the 'Gear. >8( WHAT!]

Look, Ryuzaki's ... ghost thing, I know you're probably pissed, but me and ghosts? Don't get along. So if you're gonna-- ... I dunno, be part of my team or whatever, I'd better not get any of that funny business from you, all right?

[She remembers the angry messages scrawled all over L's hotel-room walls, okay?]

[Needless to say, the ghost Pokemon merely scrunches his face up in response. Who's THIS bitch?! He raises both stubby paw-hands and proceeds to flip off his new trainer without so much as a how-do-you-do. Heather (still not visible-- the 'Gear is dangling idly in her hand by her side) just huffs.]


Now, see, that? You can do THAT all you want. Just don't touch my stuff, or my roomies, or do any of your freaky-ass ghost shit, okay? ... Okay. Great. Ugh...

[She starts to turn away. Better go upstairs and brace Henry for the fact that there was now going to be a GHOST hanging around on occasio-- askhg';JGA;LDFKJG';S WHAFUCK--]

And then there was chaos. )


K;LJSDG;FHJDL;G


DFSGJLFGH;H

GSGGG


JHHJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ






[ooc: Responses will come either... mid-fight or after things have settled down. Ecruteak-goers, feel free to experience the wonder that is a teenage girl rolling around on the floor and trying to punch a ghost.]
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Yo, this is where I'm at: Ecruteak City
I'm feeling: angry
 
 
Heather Mason
31 July 2011 @ 11:11 pm
[What tiiiiiiiiiiime is it?]

[.... GYM BATTLE TIME!]

[The feed, as often is the case whenever Heather actually films one of her battles, seems manned by the resident camera-crocodile, and airborne thanks to Honey the ever-patient Butterfree (although not quite as airborne as it was back in Violet City during the victory over Falkner-- Godzilla isn't exactly a little baby anymore...]

[Nonetheless, the fight is filled with the usual combo of snippy one-liners from Heather and NON-STOP ACTION, because man, if it's gonna be broadcast, might as well make it showy! The first half of the battle is largely dominated by Cujo-- but when Jasmine sends out her monstrous Steelix, Heather recalls the pup and turns briefly to the camera to smugly reassure the viewers--]


Cooj totally has this, but it wouldn't be fair to let him have ALL the fun, y'know?

[With a knowing grin, she promptly hucks a different ball onto the field-- releasing a dainty Ponyta.]

GET 'em, Carousel!

[For something that had been a gangly little foal around Christmas, Carousel's done a lot of growing-- which is PARTICULARLY evident in the fight that she proceeds to put up against the metal snake's attacks, prancing and leaping to avoid most of the blows-- Heather had clearly been training her quite a bit during the month or so she'd been in Olivine by now.]

[Although, something a little odd-- which could of course be because of Zilla's filming, the Totodile doesn't exactly have the steadiest hands (claws?) when it comes to holding the camera... but... did Carousel suddenly get quite a bit BIGGER as she came leaping over the Steelix's flaming coils...?]



[... HUH. Well, whaddya know. What lucky timing!]

[As the Steelix comes crashing down to the Gym's sandy floor, rolling feebly to put out the flames, the audience is treated to a very artistic sideways view of the a set of long, snowy legs trotting over to their trainer, who is looking surprisingly NOT triumphant over her victory. In fact, she looks kinda... shell-shocked. Aaaand then the camera swings away again to show the defeated Gym Leader, who fortunately handles these sorts of things a LOT more gracefully than You-Know-Who in Goldenrod...]


My goodness...

[The camera shuffles a short distance away so it can get a good view of both trainers-- Zilla wants to give people the FULL EXPERIENCE, after all!]


That was a quite exciting battle... Did you know your Ponyta was about to evolve?

Um...

[Shooting the now-Thoroughbred-sized animal beside her an unsure look, Heather startles sideways slightly when the Rapidash stretches her neck out to nose at the side of her face. Shuffling a step or two to the side, she pats Carousel's nose distractedly, more with the intention of pushing her gently away than anything else.]

No...

Well! What a... lucky coincidence! ... I'm sure you would have done fine anyway, though... your Pokemon are quite the little spitfires! Please, um... take the Mineralbadge. You've earned it!

Thanks--!

[Too distracted to even snicker at the unintentional pun, Heather sloooowly steps away from the fiery unicorn and starts to head across the sand towards the camera to claim her prize-- which is where the feed cuts out.]
 
 
Yo, this is where I'm at: Olivine City Gym
I'm feeling: uncomfortable
 
 
Heather Mason
01 April 2011 @ 05:11 pm

  
[This is what one might see if they are outside on April Fool's Day in the fine city of Goldenrod.]

[When Heather set out from Violet, she did it with a vengeance-- making it to her destination in record time purely by force of will. .... Well, okay. Snake and Solid the Onix helped out a little too. But REGARDLESS, it looks like she made it just in time for the stormclouds to come rolling in.]

[Johto, you been PUNK'D.]

[By the time the lobby doors to the big hotel she had left about two months before slide open and Heather staggers inside, she's thoroughly drenched and gasping. Not even sprinting through the deluge (which had blown in fast, as deluges often do-- the last quarter-mile to Goldenrod had been a mad dash to try and beat the roiling sky. She hadn't made it.]

[Spluttering and dripping everywhere, Heather stumbles into the lobby, letting the doors slide shut behind her to be drummed on incessantly by the big fat raindrops.]

[Cujo, who looks surprisingly happy for a Fire type about being wet, prances in alongside her and proceeds (much to the disdain of the bellboy who had started over to her with the intention of offering her a towel, only to quickly change his mind when he saw what was about to happen) to SHAKE. OFF. EVERYWHERE. And with a coat as shaggy as his? Fur could hold half its weight in water. Once he's finished, he happily goes gambolling off across the lobby to re-investigate the potted plants that he hasn't seen in a month or two. SUP PLANTS.]

[Heather, meanwhile, is doing some shake-drying of her own, sluicing water off of her hair vigorously. BRRRRRRRR. The bellboy is crying on the inside.]

  
UGH!

When they say April showers bring May flowers, but I didn't expect it to hit on the first, on the DOT.... Cooj, if you 'mark' those potted plants and get us thrown out into the rain, I will leave you in a box on someone's doorstep.

[Now giving the dripping coat that she'd been using as an (ineffective) umbrella a shake (in the bellboy's mind, Heather's threat level went from amber to red) or two, she grabbed up the strap to her bag and started to drag it towards the thankfully-carpeted sitting area, leaving a big watery trail the whole way (WHY COULDN'T HE HAVE GONE ON TO BE A SPORTS ANNOUNCER LIKE HIS MOTHER WANTED INSTEAD OF BEING A BELLBOY SOB).]

[Once there, Heather popped down into a squat on the carpet, whistling for Cujo while she rummaged in her pockets for the Pokeballs containing her companions.]


Boy, sure am glad I decided to take Alvaro with me... Sure hope these things are waterproof. [Fearing that shoving the orphaned Cubone into a BOX right off the bat would damage its fragile emotional state even MORE, Heather had opted to take him with her. Here's hoping that decision wouldn't bite her in the butt. At least Carousel had been box'd-- Heather had already witnessed the wonder that was a drenched Ponyta trying to re-ignite its mane and she wasn't sure her already-shot nerves could take the stress of watching a pony shed sparks everywhere.]

Good, nobody fell outta my pocket-- hey, Claudy, c'mon, get outta there, I gotta check on my stuff...

[Tossing the bag's flap open, she ushers the damp, ruffled-looking owl out of the bag. Claudy picks her way delicately onto the carpet and fluffs up to about twice her size before starting to preen unconcernedly. Heather watches the display with a roll of her eyes.]

Y'know, if you'd just go in the ball like a NORMAL Pokemon, that bag would've weighed like half as much. Probably would've been able to beat the rain if I hadn't had to lug YOU around, too... Man, my 'Gear better not be busted...

[She reached into the bag to fish around for the contraption in question-- ... and stops.]

.... Claudy, what the fuck, did you cough up a pellet the size of GOD in here or--








.... Oh.





.... What the--



[VIDEO]


[The camera turns on. Its feed is focused first on Claudy's head. She's grooming something, but all that can be seen for the moment is her feathers as they bob up and down.]


This.... this is an owl.


[The camera shifts away from the Noctowl and over to the bag, giving a nice view of the inside of Heather's bag (partially emptied so that her stuff could dry. Littering the bottom of the bag are crushed fragments of eggshell.]

Owls lay eggs.


[And then... then the camera zooms out a little, and moves back over to Claudy-- who can now be seen in full, contentedly preening a damp, squeaking little Eevee with ears about the same size as its body.]


That is not a baby owl.


[The camera turns around, onto a confused and slightly-disturbed-looking Heather. Her hair is still plastered wetly down around her face.]

I... I think I was just pranked by Mother Nature.




 
 
Yo, this is where I'm at: Goldenrod City hotel lobby
I'm feeling: confused
 
 
Heather Mason
HEATHER!

HEATHER HEATHER HEATHER! LOOKIT!


[Heather groaned. It was way too early for this.]

[Anyone actually out and about on the streets of Violet City on this fine, promising-to-be-warm day wouldn't be able to enjoy the peace and quiet for long. Between the rapid clip-clopping trot of the Ponyta hightailing it up and down the street and the childish squeals of the UNHOLY DEMON that was chasing after her gleefully through the morning fog that was rising off all the now-rapidly-melting snow.]

[Clearing her still sleep-gunked throat with one fist to her mouth, Heather called out after the fleeing figures.]



Don't run into any lamp posts and die or your brother'll glare witheringly at me and say something droll!


[Whether or not the kid and the pony heard her was unclear. Either way, Beckett Fowl and Carousel the Ponyta were having too much fun to listen to something as boring as orders, pfft. Sighing, Heather rubbed at now significantly-darker rings under her eyes. When he had asked her to watch after his brother until he himself could come collect the kid, Artemis had failed to mention that said kid was the living incarnation of hyperactivity itself. The only reason Heather was even OUT here at ass o'clock in the morning (at least the SUN was up-- barely) instead of curled up in bed was because there was no shutting this thing up.]

[So in the spirit of wanting to get more sleep being a responsible babysitter, she'd dragged herself out of bed to let kid and Pokemon let off their energy in constructive ways like running in repetitive circles rather than making someone from the room below hers come to her door and complain about the fact that it sounded like she was letting an elephant jump up and down in there.]


Your brother'd better get here soon, y'little cretin....

[Pausing to sigh and lean on a lamp post, Heather looked around blearily at the sleepy city. There were some good and bad things about it this morning. On the bright side, the warmth meant she'd finally been able to ditch the sleeves AT LAST. ... But on the OTHER hand...]


[FOG.]

[Fuckin' fog.]

[It wasn't even the thick, soupy stuff that had been laying over the city last fall like an obese, hallucinogenic slug, it was floaty, whimsical little wisps that were being painted pale pink by the sunrise-- but even that was enough to bring up the goosebumps on her bare arms. ... Or no, that was just because it was damp. Right? Yeah, that's all.]

[But god, it made her want to just go back inside and wait until it all burned off... Even though she couldn't, thanks to the fact that she had to wait for the child prodigy to come running back in this direction.]


Ugh. You owe me so hard, Arty.

[Because addressing thin air would really tell him just how sulky you were over this, Heather. That is the right thing to do.]

[Shivering despite the balminess, Heather folded her arms and tried to keep her mind off the odd flashes of memory these foggy streets were bringing back, of that autumn incident that had soured her so hard on this city. RRGGH it was really getting into her HEAD, too, she could almost hear the echoes of a baby cryi-- .... Wait a second.]

[Heather turned her head at the sound. ... No... no, she wasn't imagining that. Something WAS crying. ... Not human-- though it was close enough to give her a start. She could still hear Beckett joyfully whooping off further down the street, so it wasn't him... Swallowing hard, she stepped away from the lamp post and in the direction of the noise, a thin wailing that was drifting from somewhere behind a clump of bushes, almost as lightly as the drifting fog.]


I-- uh.... helloo--...?

[And there it was.]




[The little Cubone peered up at her warily through the sockets in its skull helmet, eyes sticky and bloodshot. Its crying had stopped as soon as Heather showed her face-- though probably more out of alarm than anything else]

[Heather just... stared right back until she found her voice.]



... Whoa, you don't look wild... what're you doin' out here all on your-- ... wait.

[... Now she recognized it. Those cries... from a network post months before. An important]


... You... belong to that girl.

[Angela. ... But if she wasn't here, that probably meant...]





... Damn it...




[Video]

[No screaming wake-up calls from Heather at this hour, thank god-- but anyone who's up might be seeing this message pop up on their screens. Heather looks... grim. ... And a little sad.]


Is there anyone else here who's talked to somebody named Angela?


.... Recently?




[ooc: Beckett used with his mun's permission!]
 
 
Yo, this is where I'm at: Violet City
I'm feeling: sad
 
 
Heather Mason
17 September 2010 @ 02:31 am
[ooc: Forward-dated to the wee hours of the morning, around 3:00 or 4:00.]


[So she'd been having some problems with fire lately, and it had been rattling her nerves. That was normal, right? This was normal.]

[When the camera turned on, there was the usual firelight that indicated that Heather was, once again, sleeping out in some sheltered area of the woods on account of A) Being totally broke, and B) having a increasingly-strained relationship with those Center nurses. But this time, the fire's a fair distance away, leaving most of Heather's features in shadow.]

[Normally she was okay with fire in most situations. She could light matches without freaking out, and while campfires weren't exactly her favorite thing in the world, they were kind of necessary for, y'know, camping, and they didn't make her want to run screaming for the hills or anything. But tonight... tonight, for some reason, that fire sent vicious little shivers down her spine and she'd realized that she did not want to sit near it.]

[Even through the shadows, the glaze of sweat on her skin was visible, as was the fact that she was unusually pale. In her lap is Arty, who seems to be a little confused at being used as a squeeze-toy, but is holding abnormally still for once, whiskers twitching and black eyes glistening in the fire's light. She can tell there's something wrong.]



H-hey, um...

... That was a pretty crazy storm earlier, huh?

I can't be the only one still awake.


.... James? Uh-- ... man, what am I saying, you're probably not even awake. [Forced, awwwwkward laugh. Of course he wouldn't be awake, and anyway, he was going back to get his wife, he didn't have to hear about her fucked-up dreams. In fact, why would she even want to tell him? They were just dreams! So what if they were about...]

.....

[Nightmares like that had to be normal after everything she'd been doing, right...?]


.... SOME weather we've been having lately, huh, guys?
 
 
I'm feeling: distressed
Yo, this is where I'm at: Outskirts of Violet