<sub>[Time for a nice view of the snowy rooftops of Blackthorn!]

[Heather's out on an upper-floor balcony somewhere-- probably a training gym judging by the fact that she's in some kind of dorky jogging suit and wearing a towel over her shoulder rather than her normal getup. Her breath steams in the air in front of her as she rubs her hands together to warm them up.]</sub>

HEEEEY, ladies and gents.

So I'm, uh, here getting ready to battle Claire in a few days, and--

_{[A slightly pudgy, pebbled blue arm pops into the frame from off-camera, tugging insistently at Heather's sleeve.]}

--I know, relax, dude. I'm gettin' to it.

Yeah, so we're pretty worn out, but uh... if anyone's got any tips on beating Dragon-types, feel free to lay 'em on me. Already know about the Ice weakness, so don't worry, we got that covered.

_{[There's a honky croak, and then her Croconaw's face shoves in from the right, chuffing impatiently and anxiously all at once. Heather leans away, planting a hand on his nose to stop it from knocking the 'Gear right over.]}

OKAY, okay!

Sheesh!

So Zilla here filmed some of our workout and wants-- I don't know, what do you want? Advice? Okay. Advice. So I'm gonna attach the video here, and like... I dunno, let him know how he's doing? He's kinda worried that he's not ready to take Claire on, but he's been training, like, super hard, so I personally think he's gonna be fine-- <sub>[Godzilla lets out another indignant honk and nearly bowls Heather over in an attempt to cover her mouth-- somehow despite being a coldblooded reptile, he seems to be blushing furiously.]

[Heather leans away again, laughing.]</sub>

OKAY! Holy shit, dude, I'm not trying to embarrass you, I'm just bein' honest!

ANYWAY.

Just, if anybody wants to watch the video and reassure this bonehead that he's doing fine, go for it. Save me from the endless late nights spent with him shoving battle tutorials from StarYoutube in my face.

[VIDEO ATTACHED: zillatrainingmontage.wmv]
[AUDIO ATTACHED: eyeofthepyroar.mp3]

<sub>[As is fairly regular with Heather, who never really plans AHEAD when she turns her feed on, the video opens with a brief glimpse at something entirely-unrelated!]

[Two large Houndooms, one bare-necked and the other wearing a large, studded leather collar-- are at play in a sunny patch of park. Or more accurately, the big collar-wearing one is TRYING to get the other to play, in a show of big-dog posturing, and the uncollared one is sort of just mild-manneredly humoring him.]

[Right before the camera shifts, though, a blur of blue and yellow barrels into the larger of the two hellhounds and the one-sided playtime promptly becomes an enthusiastic wrestling match between Tricia (the Manectric recently inherited from Cooper) and Huan (the Houndoom even more recently inherited from Otacon).]

[But then it's Heather's face dominating the screen, because she apparently has other things in mind than just showing the network a bunch of dogs running around the park.]</sub>

Hey.

So.

If there's anyone around who knows much about horses... riding horses, specifically...

I'm looking to learn. Any advice's appreciated. Thanks in advance.


<sub>[... Well that was unusually businesslike and to the point. ... For someone like Heather, anyway. There's not much humor in the usually-goofy girl's voice today.]

[Before she can flick the 'Gear off, there's a commotion offscreen and she looks off in the direction of the noise, clearly exasperated.]</sub>

... TCH, god dammit Cujo.

<sub>[The view shifts as she gets up and it becomes apparent that Cujo the Hulking Behemoth of a Growlithe (tm) had decided to join the fray and promptly plowed straight OVER at least two of the participants, who are now chasing after him in a big herd of barking chaos across the park. OH THOSE CRAZY DOGES.]

[End feed.]</sub>



[PRIVATE MESSAGE TO JEANE]

HEY. How did you do that shit at the party?

_{[... well wtf is that supposed to mean, Heather. Clarification is apparently not going to be provided until she gets a reply.]}

<sub>[CLOUDS ABOVE. WATER BELOW. That's what Heather is seeing when she briefly flicks on the audio feed.]

[After spending a whole lot of time trying to ensure through various means that she wouldn't meet an uncertain death trying to fly, enough time had passed and Heather couldn't hold back that classic Mason mother-hen desire to have all the eggs in one place at the same time anymore.]

[In hindsight, though, informing the two she'd gotten on the bird to actually GO SEE that she'd left... AFTER she left, was a bit of a bad decision. Turns out the roaring wind is pretty damn loud when you're that high. She has to raise her voice to be heard.]</sub>

Angela. Lisa!

Sorry for the wait. M'finally on my way.

_{[A pause, punctuated by the whistling wind.]}

... Aaaand it'd be good if you could both tell me where you are, too. Prooobably should've asked that before I left.

_{[But THAT ASIDE... the video feed flicks on then, showing off a vast expanse of blue water below and fluffy clouds above, with Sunny's downy ear-tufts fluttering down towards the bottom of the screen.]}

I take back any misgivings I might've had about flying before.

This... is pretty awesome.

Okay-- OKAY, OKAY, hang on, I got it!

All right, get back.

<sub>[The sound of big reptilian feet plodding backwards through wet sand can be heard as the camera shows a wobbly view of.... Sunny the Togekiss standing on an appropriately sunny Cianwood beach. The water's lapping at the shore, the sky is bright blue, it's totally beautiful.]

[A PERFECT day to test out the new, hard-earned skill gotten from beating Chuck in a furious fist-fight (and some obligatory after-battle arm-wrestling): Fly.]

[Perched precariously on the back of the big white marshmallow-bird is Heather, kneeling and holding onto the thick white plumage with both hands. She's got a determined expression.]</sub>

Okay. Let's give it a try. I-- no, Dad, it's gonna be FINE, that's why I'm practicing on the BEACH, remember? Sand is soft!

OKAY.

Ready, girl?

Let's-- oh shit aw HELL--

<sub>[With some gentle but powerful WHOMPS, the Togekiss had begun to serenely flap its pillowy wings and take off. ... Without Heather, because Heather has no idea how the hell to ride a flying thing and was promptly jostled off by the wing motion.]

[Touching down again, Sunny trills and lovingly sits upon the face-down Heather like any caring bird mother might with a stupid bird baby that crash-landed after trying to fly.]</sub>

... Okay.

This could take a little practice.

<sub>[It's quiet.]

[In more ways than one.]

[Actually, 'quiet' is a pretty good word to describe everything over the past few days, from Heather's perspective.]

[She's been quiet. After making an angry spectacle of herself in front of everyone, she hadn't been in much of a talkative mood. The trip down Route 38 had been spent largely in solemn silence, even after Crow had joined them mid-journey-- something that practically didn't seem possible.]

[The network's been quiet. Relatively, anyway. So many previously-prolific voices had vanished. Those who were left had understandably been left to pick up the pieces of everything that had come undone and, well, it's hard to blame them for being quiet-- those ones who had lost people, anyway. God knows Heather couldn't muster the fire to keep getting angrier as word of new disappearances had continued to flow in. The moment when she had seriously considered destroying a harmless Pokemon egg and its contents had been the moment she'd burnt herself out.]

[And, perhaps the only one that's sort of comforting right now, the city is quiet. The hustle and bustle of summer is both long ago and far in the future and as such, Olivine City in February is a great deal calmer than it had been the last time Heather had been here. That's sort of good, really. They've all needed to do a lot of thinking lately.]



[It's morning-- hardly even dawn yet.]

[At first, the camera isn't even SHOWING Heather. More a very close view of the floor, and the railing at the top of the staircase leading up from the lobby of the Olivine Inn. The cameraman is probably a Pokemon, but who knows which one it is... Godzilla has long since retired from his 'Gear-stealing shenanigans and so has Butch, now that he can WOOOOOO and QUAAAAAAG at his beloved Flapper in person.]

[But whichever one it is, it carries the camera with an air of quiet determination, and once it situates itself within view of its trainer, who seems to be sitting silently by a window in the deserted lobby, it sits itself down with a rustle and zooms in.]



[Eyes shut, she almost looks asleep, except for the fact that she's absent-mindedly stroking something with one finger-- something bristly-looking and pale yellow that seems to be in the process of contentedly nuzzling its way under her chin. ... Something with four bright blue eyes not dissimilar to the odd markings on that little egg she had been threatening to crush last week.]

[The video doesn't last long. It lingers on Heather and the new Pokemon for fifteen or twenty seconds, and then shuts off. Whoever had been filming, it seemed, had no agenda outside of showing the network that, no, Heather had not gone through with her impulsive plan. Fortunately.]


[The whole time, Heather just carries on obliviously.]

[Remembering hurts... but there's nothing anybody can do to change that.]

[Half to herself and half to the creature, who doesn't seem to be aware of how close it had come to maybe NOT EVER GETTING TO HATCH, she mumbles after a few seconds.]</sub>

... Stage five. I think.

That's acceptance, right?

<sub>[A short while after the singing wild Pokemon and egg presents had died down, a rather unfortunate discovery was made upon dialing a number she'd been meaning to dial ever since Claudia Wolf and Kaito Kuroba had disappeared from Johto.]

[Already on the road, the weather's mild enough (even with the wind picking up) that Heather decided that was pretty much a good time to pocket her Valentine's Day present and just head off for a walk. Because lord knows, she needs one.]

[It's not the first time Johto has given everyone the gift of a precious little egg, but it is the first time that Heather's found herself resenting it.]

[The video feed pops on, focused in on a tiny, pale yellow little egg hardly bigger than a chicken's, nestled in the palm of Heather's hand as dry grass goes past underfoot.]</sub>



It would be so easy to just... crush it.

<sub>[There was a bit of radio silence on Heather's part for awhile there... but here comes a video post! Because... yeah, uh. Probably a good idea to show everybody she's not DEAD.]

[The girl on the screen looks exhausted. The baggy shadows under her eyes never really seem to go away entirely, but they'd at least gone tame for awhile. Now they're back full force. It seems excessive, maybe, getting so broken-up for days over losing one person, even if that person was her best friend. ... But as she'd found out, he hadn't been the only one she'd lost that day. And she's not totally sure how she feels about it. ... About them both. Just that she's tired. BUT AT LEAST SHE'S NOT PUNCHING ANYTHING, RIGHT?]

[She seems to be leaning on (or... INTO. It's very... voluminous) a sort of... soft white MASS of some sort-- whose identity is revealed when a sharp hooked beak (that is... mostly obscured by fluffy white down) descends into the frame and starts to groom Heather's rat's-nest hair with a quiet twitter. Sunny makes the best pillow.]

[Heather doesn't waste any time before cutting right to the chase, speaking with a bored drawl (that's partially to justify how croaky her voice is-- SCREW EVERYTHING she's a bored teenager she doesn't need to sound nice!).]</sub>

Right, so.

Gonna beat Morty soon and then get outta this town. Nothin' left to do here, really.

So, uh.

We can either head over to Cianwood and see about getting Fly. ... Not that I have anything big enough to fly on, but. Y'know. For the heck of it.

OR we could head over to Mahogany. Which is... well, closer I guess.

So... I dunno. Thoughts? Anyone? Bueller?

_{[The shaggy, retreating backside of a panting Growlithe trotting through the snow and a view of worn, upside-down brown boots tromping along hurriedly after him is the first thing to greet the screen. Accompanying the hurried crunch-squeak of footsteps through good fresh snow is Heather's aggravated voice.]}

COOJ!

Cujo!

Come on, it's COLD! Don't pull this. I will skin y-- COOJ!

<sub>[The 'Gear probably bumped against her leg or something and came on by accident-- cue SHAKYCAM dog chase! Up ahead, Cujo stops briefly and whirls gleefully in the snow to face his trainer. Instantly the cause of his flight is seen-- he's got one of her gloves in his mouth and clearly decided that now would be a great time to play Keepaway. He pauses briefly with his rump in the air and tail wagging slowly-- only to turn tail and go gallumphing off through the snow again as soon as Heather (and the camera) get close enough to try and make a grab.]

[Heather curses viciously under her breath and the chase begins again, complete with hollered threats.]

[... But eventually the angry yells of 'I AM GOING TO TURN YOU INTO A TIGER-SKIN RUG AND THEN HENRY WILL SLEEP ON YOU' trail off and are replaced by a brief, uncertain silence, followed by an alarmed-sounding tone.]</sub>

Wh-- Cooj-- ... No.

_{[The motion had stopped briefly, but it quickly picks up again as Heather breaks into a sprint.]}

Nononononononono COOJ! Don't!

<sub>[In the midst of all the shakiness, the 'Gear shifts just long enough to show what Heather is apparently so upset about-- and that is Cujo's creamy tail far ahead disappearing into a building-- a hulking, charred, broken building. The Burned Tower. Or what was left of it, anyway...]

[Out of breath, Heather pauses when she reaches the slight plateau the tower's foundations sit on, briefly wheeling to look back down the hill at the town below, then back at the dark entrance. Waffling between going in or just yelling for Cujo at the doorway.]</sub>

... God dammit... COOJ!

_{[She steps through the doorway and into the dark interior of the building. Now that the camera's not shaking all over the place, she's holding it up for the sake of illumination, turning slowly in place to take in the charred walls around her. There's shafts of light cutting through the broken areas up top, and snowflakes drift down in the breeze like ashes.]}

... God this place is creepy... My kingdom for a flashlight... Cuuuujoooo... c'mon, boy, where are you?

_{[The wood creaks underfoot as she steps forward. The place has that eerie silence that only ruined places have, and is it sorta freaking Heather out? You bet. Her voice takes on a singsong tone to distract herself from the smell of the burnt wood.]}

Cuuujoooooo... if you come out, I'll give you all my leftover beef jerrrkyyyy...

... Or one of Henry's shoooooes?

... C'mon, mutt, I can HEAR you panting somewhere over there, just c'mon ou--


<sub>[... And then there is an ominous groan immediately followed by an EXPLOSIVE crackling of wood and a startled holler. The visual is immediately replaced by darkness, and a THUD signals an abrupt meeting with the ground.]

[Accompanied by the pitter-patter of falling splinters and dusty, Heather sits up, coughing and holding up the 'Gear again.]</sub>

UGH... hell...

_{[A bright hole above her (which she apparently just CREATED) swivels into view as she aims the 'Gear upwards. A familiar orange canine head pops into view over the edge of the hole still with the stolen glove in his mouth.]}


... I am SO not getting you anything for Christmas.


_{[There's a hollow thumping noise as his tail whacks against the floor above and Cujo promptly drops the glove down the hole. It hits the screen and bounces off, hitting the floor. Heather reaches out and picks it up, giving it a shake.]}

Great. Thanks. That is super helpful. Really.

You're like Lassie.

What would I do without you-- oh crap.

_{[In the classic tradition of shaky-cam horror movies everywhere, there was a noise somewhere off-camera (a low, crackling rumble of sorts) and immediately the view whipped around-- showing a brief flash of something off in the darkness coming around a corner. Something lizardlike and fiery. Then the feed cuts.]}




[ooc: Video responses will take place an hour or so after the feed, from a slightly singed-looking Heather.]

<sub>[You guys.]

[You guys.]

[It is so cold outside.]

[No, seriously, it's bitter and the snow's been building up and for the towns up north like Mahogany and Ecruteak, the snow is rooooollin' in.]

[But unlike last year, when Heather pretty much spent the first snows of the season filming her Pokemon skidding around on the streets of Goldenrod trying to eat snowflakes ... this time, when the feed comes on, it's filming the snow out the window from indoors, where it's brightly lit, with low, cheerful chatter in the background.]

[Outside, the snow is drifting down in big, fat flakes over the old houses of Ecruteak, making the whole dang place look like a gingerbread town.]

[Heather's voice cuts in.]</sub>

Guess what, you guys.

_{[And then the 'Gear is scooted around, giving a jerky view of what seems to be the interiors of one of the several old diners in the town, festively decorated and full of old folks enjoying their coffee. Then Heather's face slides into view, and she leans in for a moment or so, adjusting the 'Gear's position a little, biting her lip as she does so. Then she withdraws, grinning widely.]}

I am no longer a drain on society.

That's right, people.

I have a job.

Try not to faint.

<sub>[... She does look slightly less messy than usual. Like she actually tried to do something with her hair and gave up halfway through as opposed to one sixth of the way through. ... Oh. And also. She's in a dress.]

[... But don't get too excited, guys. There's nothing to fill the dress with so somehow Heather In a Dress looks even more like a boy than Heather In Normal Clothes does. Still, viewers, feel free to take a moment or two to inwardly marvel at the bizarre, surreal vision that is 'Heather Mason in a nice, old-school waitress outfit', but don't expect her to wait up for you. She's already continuing, scratching absent-mindedly at the collar of the dress as she does so.]</sub>

Figured I'd better rake up some cash before Christmas gets too close-- gotta get people presents and stuff, y'know? So yeah. The old folks who own the place are super chill. They make my last manager look like .... well, she already was a psycho bitch-monster of death, but they make her look like even MORE of one. _{[She pauses, canting her head to give the 'Gear one of those 'YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKIN ABOUT' looks, because there HAVE to be some people out there who remember where Heather worked around this time last year. And WHO she worked for.]} Guys who were here one year ago, you probably remember her.

But yeah, so, they gave me permission to check messages and stuff if it's not too busy in here, so! Best bosses ever.

And hey, if you're in the area, stop by and visit or something. It's nice and warm in here.

... Plus...

_{[And that's when she holds up a coffeepot, with a cheerful grin that borders ever-so-slightly on the sinister.]}

I'm legally sanctioned to pour boiling hot liquids in close proximity to people now! Sweet, huh?

_{[End feed. c:]}

<sub>[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.]</sub>

Nnngh....

<sub>[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.]</sub>

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.

<sub>[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.]</sub>

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.]

Hey, 'Zilla, you got the 'Gear?

This stuff NEEDS to be documented.

<sub>[That's the first thing that can be heard over the feed. When the camera first comes on, a pair of large, familiar reptilian red eyes are blinking down at it. Is it recording...? Oh, okay, recording! Good.]

[Then it zooms out a little, enough to show-- HEY! That's not the Totodile that last hijacked the 'Gear!]

[With newly black-rimmed eyes, a proud red crest, and a new ultra-manly thickened jaw, it would seem that the bratty little Totodile who'd last been seen moping on the network over whether or not he was a good Pokemon... had finally evolved, after a whole year of wanting to stay 'the baby' of the gang. What prompted his choice to finally start growing up?]

[Well, that's a story that'll have to wait till later, because he lets out a satisfied snort at the sight of the red recording light, and then turns it away from himself-- only for the screen to IMMEDIATELY be filled with a grotesquely-detailed rubber Mightyena mask, snarling and sporting a wild mane of black hair over the top!]</sub>

RAAAARRLLGGHHBLAAARG!

<sub>[... Oh wait. The black hair is just Heather.]

[She yanks the mask off, grinning widely.]</sub>

I can't even handle all these epically cheesy costumes, man. Some things really ARE universal.

<sub>[The camera shifts a little-- it's from a much higher vantage-point than normal now, considering all the previous times the camera-croc's been the one filming, it's been from a vantage point on the FLOOR unless he was able to persuade Honey the Butterfree to carry him-- and it becomes apparent that they're in a costume store. There's rack after rack of jumbled costumes everywhere-- looks like it's already been pretty thoroughly ransacked by local kids, but there's still plenty of stuff left. It's just... everywhere.]

[Hanging the mask back up, Heather bends down to start picking through the other odds and ends, which range from cheesy and cheap-looking to actually fairly interesting.]</sub>

Maybe this time around, we'll actually get to ENJOY the holiday instead of spend the whole time running away from rips in the fabric of space and time...



_{[OOC: Action for anybody in Ecruteak, obviously! Feel free to assume your character is already in the shop, Heather will gladly harass them to try on stupid costume crap with her. Also feel free to address the camera-croc.]}

_{[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?

<sub>[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.]</sub>

... God dammit...

<sub>[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.]</sub>

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.

<sub>[Wow. From surprised, to resigned, to.... indignant?]

[The dazzling light fades after a second or two, and shows....]</sub>

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?

<sub>[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.]</sub>

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.]}

<sub>[So what's the best thing for someone who's been spending their time alternately fretting and pretending not to be fretting over circumstances well beyond their control?]

[A) More fretting
B) Meditation
C) A DISTRACTION]

[If anyone answered anything other than C, they're either very silly, or Cooper.]

[Heather is neither (.... okay, maybe she's the former quite often), so needless to say... when the posters for the Johto-wide fighting tournament going on in Goldenrod City hit the streets, they were the first thing to catch her eye. In fact, anyone spending any amount of time with her in person has probably noticed the way she's been stopping in the middle of whatever she was doing every single time she passes one of the damn things to look at it contemplatively, with a cocked head and a sort of half-wistful, half-devilish look in her eye.]

[As such, nobody whatsoever should be surprised when she pops up on the network on the day of signups ending with one of the flyers in hand. She'd been waffling on account of the fact that her father was sure do disapprove, but... man, she's been spoiling for something like this for months, and she's got... more than a little steam to blow off. Steam that isn't always so easy to blow off in a world where society expects you to resolve all your conflicts by letting animals do your fighting for you.]</sub>

YO Johto, what's the happs?

_{[She grins broadly and then flourishes the poster at the screen.]}

Guys. Guys. Look.

Look at this.

Best thing ever, or BEST thing ever?

Who else's gonna sign up?

I'M gonna. ... Assuming the puppy-eyes work on Dad, I guess. They're a little rusty but I was once the puppy-eyes champion so I should be okay. And for anybody weirded out by the surreal idea of ME doing puppy-eyes, ask yourselves this: how ELSE could I have gotten away with all the crazy crap you totally know I got up to as a kid?

_{[A sly, knowing nod.]}

Yeah, makes more sense now, doesn't it.

ANYWAY.

_{[Another flourish of the poster.]}

So if any of you are planning on being in this thing, gimme a shout! I wanna size up the competition and stuff. ... And also, transportation? I'm in Ecruteak, so... if anyone's in the area, I guess we could carpool, or something? _{[She's not opposed to the idea of leaping on a strange Pidgeot if she HAS TO, buuuuut...]} I mean, the Tournament isn't supposed to LAST too long, so I'm guessin' we'd all only be gone for like... what, a week or two at most? Then I'd be headed back to Ecruteak because seriously, nice place.

Anyway... _{[She trails off, eyes flicking off to the side of the screen.]} I'd better go convince Dad that I won't die if I do this. _{[Eyes back to the screen, she gives a somber, soldier-like nod and salutes solemnly.]} Wish me luck, my people.

<sub>[BOOP. End feed.]

[TIME TO GO FIND DAD.]</sub>

<sub>[It always seems like autumn in the woodland town of Ecruteak. But when it's actually autumn, the colors are mind-blowing.]

[Heather might not be one of those 'let's walk quietly in nature and be alone with our thoughts' types, but she can appreciate the beauty of the world when she sees it! Which is why, accompanied by a small chorus of footsteps as she and the rest of the gang tromp into Ecruteak City, she's got the 'Gear out and is pointing it around at the explosion of color decorating the trees.]</sub>

Man, why did we skip this place again? It's friggin' gorgeous. Reminds me of home!

<sub>[New England autumns were one thing she had sort of missed since coming here. There weren't many of those]

[As the quaint buildings start coming into view, though, the 'Gear spins as she turns to the rest of the group-- her father, Henry, and the terrible trio of Kaito, Crow, and Aoko. ... Along with, of course, the Pokemon ambling alongside them all (or being carried).]</sub>

Hey, I dunno if you guys wanna go on to the inn or whatever, but I'm gonna make a quick stop at the Mart, okay? If you don't wanna come in with me, I can catch up with ya later. <sub>[Doop doop gotta restock on sun lotion. :I]

[She heads into the store, greeted by the swish of the doorway and a burst of air-conditioning-- summer's still clinging on enough to make the sunny day hot, even in September. A couple of minutes of browsing later (a nice shady inn room and a nap sound awesome right now, so she's not exactly into lingering), she approaches the counter with her purchase (and a little bottle of Aprijuice for Godzilla because he had tugged on her shirt and looked pitiful when they passed the display) and puts them down, digging in her bag and speaking to the cashier a little distractedly.]</sub>

Hey, could you feed the receipt into my 'Gear so I can keep track? Thanks.

_{[She sort of forgot the camera was on, apparently-- but the cashier takes the 'Gear and does so, before pausing and blinking down at the screen.]}

... Oh! Your name's Heather Mason?

_{[... Buh?]}

Uh... yeah. Why?

_{[Is it bad that her first thought is that this guy is like the Jennies from Violet and actually remembers that time a warrant for arrest went out with her name on it? But he doesn't seem accusatory-- instead, he's propping the 'Gear on the counter and bending down to get something from under the register.]}

We received a package with your name on it a little while ago and we've been holding onto it. Here.

_{[He passes over a slender box, with a few stickers and stamps on it-- looks like it's been sent around a few different places before it finally found her. Looking confused, Heather takes it, looking down at it with furrowed brows.]}

... There's no sender name on it?

<sub>[The cashier shrugs, making a baffled 'iunno' noise.]

[Heather glances downwards at the two Pokemon who had come with her into the shop, who look just as baffled as she does. ... Well, Arty kind of looks... angrily baffled, but there you go. Then, shrugging, she slips the top off the box and pulls out its contents.]



[Two Pokeballs ... and a worn-out old cloth green headband.]

[Heather's heart sinks immediately. She knows exactly who this package is from...]



[A few minutes later, she emerges from the shop, the bandanna carefully folded back into the box and put in her bag for safekeeping, but the Pokeballs are still in her hand. Stopping once she's out in the sunlight, she puts her bag down and looks at the balls contemplatively for a moment or so, before turning her head to look at the autumn foliage again.]</sub>

... I'll take care of 'em, Dave.

<sub>[... Wow okay, mumbling to thin air like he could hear her. That was dumb. ... But it made her feel a little better, anyway.]

[Rolling her shoulders, she puts a grin on her face and tosses the Pokeballs into the air, releasing their residents in the usual bright flash of light. Even if Snake was gone... it's good to see them again.]

[She raises her arms to meet the joyful trills of the larger of the two, and as she does so, looks over her shoulder and hollers--]</sub>

( HEY, DAD! Wanna see what Lisa's gonna look like when she's all grown up? )



_{[ooc: Responses will come shortly, gonna go get somethin to eat B). Action for anyone in Ecruteak!]}

<sub>[The feed opens in a decidedly innocent fashion. It's jauntily wobbling back and forth as its holder walks, and the screen is filled by a big blue :D face, backed by an even bluer sky. ... And the occasional waving green tips from the sand dunes he's passing. Yes, Butch the Quagsire is on the beach, waddling happily down to the shore with Heather's 'Gear-- perhaps stolen in hopes of being able to carry on a happy WOOOOO-filled long-distance conversation with Flapper.]

[But an angry-sounding gurgle rings out behind him-- and Butch turns to face his pursuer, who is equally blue, but a great deal smaller.]</sub>

Ttt-t-toto!


QUAAAA--

<sub>[What follows is a very shaky view of the sky jittering around as the two Pokemon engage in a fierce tug-of-war over the gadget. Occasionally their faces pop into view, and while it's more or less impossible for a Quagsire to actually look angry, it's obvious that it's a heated debate. Finally, apparently deciding that it's too much trouble, Butch lets go of the 'Gear with a huffy 'QUA!' and waddles off.]

[Godzilla's concerned red eyes appear in front of the screen as he checks over the 'Gear delicately, as if checking to make sure it wasn't damaged. Anyone who's gotten used to the Totodile's presence in Heather's transmissions before may note that he seems a lot more... contrite than usual, maybe? Which has actually been the case ever since the OMNOM ELBOW incident a couple months before... strange.]

[In any case, once satisfied, he sets off waddling back across the sand, determinedly. If anyone's actually cared enough to keep watching that long (or is just tuning in now), his destination becomes apparent immediately.]

[In a shady spot juuuuust where the sand starts to shift over to grass and trees, Heather is sprawled on her back on an unused old picnic table, arms folded behind her head, along with her wadded-up vest for a pillow. There's a few old chip bags and soda bottles scattered around the little sun-dappled area, but it would seem that whoever left them had probably packed up and left much earlier, since Heather's the only one there.]

[... That's probably why she's there... judging from the dull, despondent quality of the way she's staring up at the foliage above.]

[And then she's lost from view briefly, as Godzilla struggles to clamber up to her, first onto the bench-seat, and then the tabletop itself. Then he's standing next to her and fumbling with the 'Gear, giving viewers a view first of her jeans pocket, then one hand, then the card-deck pattern on her shirt, then (inexplicably) a zoomed-in view of worn-out wooden table-top, before it finally settles on her face as he presents the 'Gear to her with a self-important gurgle that can only be an attempt to tattle on Butch.]

[At first, she doesn't even turn her head. It's pretty obvious her mind is elsewhere. But when he tries again, this time nudging her shoulder with the 'Gear, a flicker of irritability crosses her face and she looks over.]</sub>

... Zilla, what--

<sub>[... Oh. It's the 'Gear. ... And the damn red light is blinking.]

[... Heather frowns with lidded eyes and shoves the 'Gear away.]</sub>

Get that thing outta my face.

_{[The Totodile makes an apologetic (and slightly hurt) sound, but relinquishes the 'Gear when she takes it and ends the feed abruptly.]}






[Private text to Harry Mason and Henry Townshend]

Hey

I was thinking maybe we could try and head east to Ecruteak City in a few days??


We've been here awhile now