<sub>[Chaotic and occasionally-accidental videos have become a relatively frequent occurrence during the outbreak, and this video is really no different in that aspect.]

[The feed comes to life in a chaotic jumble that makes it clear that the 'Gear was bumped or jostled into turning on-- no amateur-but-deliberate filming of Pokemon attacking action figures this time around. It does, however, come to a brief halt as the carrier pauses.]



[Sunny the Togekiss peers sorrowfully down from the outdoor-rafters she's perched on, apparently refusing to come down.]</sub>

-ny!

SUNNY!

Get the HELL down-- oh my god, you know what?

Forget it.

FORGET IT.

Forget it.

Fucking BIRD.

_{[The screen whirls and and all image coherency disappears in a swirl of bouncing sky and trees. The WHACK WHACK WHACK of the mic hitting the other contents of Heather's bag as it swings at her side destroy most of the audibility too, but snippets of voices come through-- Heather's and someone else's. People who are familiar with her and the people she travels with will recognize it as her father Harry Mason.]}


Heath--r please be reason-- just stop for a moment and think ab-- you don't need to d-- let it g--

No. NO. She--

I don't CARE if she's not g-- to-- I'm going--- do what I should have done in t-- --ace!

--L MASON--

_{[The thumping stops as Heather apparently stops and spins on her heel. As she does so, the camera's view once again settles, offering an off-kilter perspective view of her from roughly waist-level. She's been staying away from the network as much as possible as the effects of the strange outbreak started to hit her hard, and now it's fairly evident why: dark, scorched-looking splotches have spread across every inch of skin like burns-- and where they crack, bright, veinlike lines like something molten spread. Her hair is smoky and black.]}

I am NOT losing you again, Dad!

_{[And then, after that raspy, croaky scream, she whirls again and keeps going. The feed times out at some point, after a lot of jumbled sounds as other voices join the apparent debate.]}



[OOC: Cooooonteeeeeext. Replies over the 'Gear will likely be ICly delayed and/or limited.]

<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>[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

<sub>[So something happened that morning. Something ... owly.]

[What, exactly, do you do when you suddenly find yourself in possession of way more fluffy spherical owls than anyone would know what to do with?]

[... TRY AND MAKE SOME MONEY OFF OF THEM, OF COURSE!]

[Anyone in Olivine City, whether they've settled down with a house or are just staying there temporarily, may witness a rather odd sight on this sunny Saturday afternoon.]

[A teenage girl and a scruffy twenty-something man, toting bold-printed signs and... what seems to be a large red wagon full of Hoothoots]

[Behind them, a rambunctious oversized Growlithe, and-- a little further back-- a middle-aged fellow in a brown coat (despite the summer heat), toting a Togepi and a Pichu and keeping his distance, because it's totally uncool for a parent to walk right next to the kids while they're trick-or-treating (although either he or one of the Pokemon would seem to be filming them surreptitiously with the 'Gear on and off, judging by the snippets of Hoothoot Sale Adventures occasionally popping up on the network).]

[... Or in this case, being the best little owl salesmen ever. Even if Henry doesn't particularly look like he wants to be there. Still, the little parade almost looks like it needs some kind of ridiculous owl-selling theme music.]

[Throughout the day, if anyone has a residence in Olivine, they may have THIS show up on their doorstep:]


[... And the girl will glance over at her companion, see that he's not planning on speaking up, and then clear her throat loudly.]</sub>

HEY there, good sir and-or madam!

Would you like to buy an owl?




[ooc: Anyone over the network is free to purchase their own adorable roly-poly spherical owl for 500P! It's assumed that any left will be sold to people here and there in Olivine. Except for the derpiest two. Heather has special recipients in mind for those.]

<sub>[It's been chaos. Once everybody realized that... no, what people were falling into were not the once-just-as-scary-but-now-almost-mundane comas that usually took hold of certain people for a week at a time, there had understandably been more than a little panic-- but then Professor Oak's announcement came in.]

[For Heather, it was a relief. So Pokemon were causing it. That didn't exactly make the situation itself any more ideal, but at least they knew. And when 'Monsters did it' was the explanation, well... Heather (understandably) considered this to be exactly the kind of problem she was good at handling.]

[About half an hour after Oak's announcement goes out, a mass text from Heather will pop up on everyone's 'Gears.]</sub>

So most of you have probably seen that announcement about the bug things stealing peoples' souls. If you haven't, I guess this is a heads up.

Since I DOUBT the police will be doing anything about this... it's probably best we all try and catch as many of these stupid things as possible. I'm sure everybody has friends who're vegetables right now because of them.

I'm in Olivine City-- if anyone in the area wants to help me and Dad stomp these things and get some peoples' souls back in the process, it'd be appreciated. Meet us in front of the Center.

-Heather
<sub>[And it's quite a few hours later before anything from Heather shows up on the network again-- presumably after a long afternoon of cautiously catching as many Shedinja as she (and anyone else who decides to help out-- be they natives or fellow foreigners) can, without falling victim to the soul-sucking holes on their backs. When the feed DOES blip on, the scene is steeped in dim green light-- it's evening and the PokeGear's owner appears to be carefully moving low to the ground in a forested place. There's faint sounds of other people around-- she's not the only one in the woods trying to catch the bugs, but she does seem to be the only one in the area.]

[She speaks in a hushed tone after fumbling around with the camera a little bit.]</sub>

Hey, guys ... uh, great work so far.

I'm in the woods just north of Olivine and there's a few hiding around here-- if any of you guys need to contact me, just text me-- I don't want any sudden noises scaring the crap out of them and giving me a nice, soul-sucky view of their back ends as they flee in terror.

_{[And with that, she hits the mute button on her 'Gear to silence her speakers-- still transmitting sound from her end, though. She turns slightly to address the snowy-white creature just beside her-- it's Alessa, her Absol-- now much bigger than when she first hatched back in December. She doesn't look particularly happy (but then, does she ever?)-- her coat is bristling, her scarlet eyes are round and wide, and she's hunched defensively, almost like she's trying to disappear into the forest floor, despite her bright coat making it impossible.]}

Sorry, girl... Cooj and Carousel've been at this all day, and you're the only one I have left who's good against ghosts... <sub>[Heather was no type expert, but she'd taken a quick glance at the Pokedex before going out on the bug hunt and figured-- well hey, it should work, right? The Growlithe and Ponyta duo had stomped these things fairly thoroughly, and fire was good against the bugs, right?]

[Alessa replied with a small, unsettled growl-- but Heather's attention was snagged by something popping up on her screen.]</sub>

( You have received a text from DAD! )


_{[Rolling her eyes with an amused grin, she closes the text message and turns her attention back to their target-- a glint of gold and pearl glimmering faintly from the bushes off to the side. She lifts one arm up at eye level in case it's facing away from her and she needs to quickly cover her eyes-- then grins when she sees that it's facing the right away, drifting vacantly a few inches above the ground.]}

Okay, 'Lessa... when I say 'Go', you hit it with Dark Pulse, all right?

...

... Alessa?

_{[Frowning, she turns to look over her shoulder-- because the only reply she received was that low, buzzing growl that the Absol only ever gave off when something very, very bad was about to happen.]}


... Alessa, are you-- ... oh, fuck--

<sub>[She had been staring at a Shedinja off to the side-- and in her distraction, hadn't noticed the ones drifting vaguely down from above-- not at her, not at her Pokemon-- just wafting downwards and spinning gently in place, the same way an ornament on a string might-- except ornaments don't usually suck out your soul.]

[Heather's eyelids were already shutting, her arm rising to shield them .... but it's too late.]

[The screen careens sickeningly as the 'Gear falls from her hand to the forest floor with a soft thump-- followed by the heavy thud of a body collapsing directly behind it.]

[The rest of the feed, until it times out-- is dominated by the distressed squalls of the Absol.]</sub>






[ooc: Video (or action, if people are stumbling across vegetable!Heather) replies will largely be answered by Alessa-- also, since Heather spent most of the day actively working with other people to capture Shedinja, feel free to set action replies earlier in the afternoon if your character might have been one of the ones going bug-hunting with Heather!]

[OOC: As usual, please feel free to skip over my long-ass prose! As usual, I apologize heartily for the spam but I couldn't let an occasion like this pass entirely without getting all sappy and BAWWW over it. Action is open to anybody in Olivine City!
also I used something from an ooc prose thing I wrote awhile ago so if some of this sounds familiar, YOU KNOW WHY]


~*~


There were a lot of things that really set this place apart from Goldenrod City.

One was the smell of the ocean. Goldenrod was a beach city, yes-- but somewhere in the middle of the smell of exhaust (nowhere near as bad as a city back home, though-- this place seemed obsessively eco-friendly for the most part), hot-lunch carts, and the sharp sweetness of the bursts of golden-colored blooms that overflowed from every park and balcony-garden, that deep, rich ocean smell was lost when you weren't right next to the damn thing.

That wasn't the case here.

In fact, as she hiked up the steep, old-timey flagstone streets of Olivine, the ocean was practically the only thing there every time she inhaled. Maybe it was because she'd just been down by the docks, but she didn't think so. No, she was pretty sure the whole city just smelled like this. Kinda liked it, in fact. Reminded her a little of home. She hadn't lived on the beach-line, but you could hop on the subway and get to the coast in perhaps an hour, tops-- that had been one of the few vacationy places that her father had been willing to take her when she was little. Lots of fond, sunny memories... Not that those rocky old Maine beaches had anything on the one she'd just walked up from.

"Hurry it up, drooly, or we'll miss the whole thing," she called over her shoulder, kicking a foot to dislodge some of the beach's contents from where it had gotten trapped between the sandal's sole and her own, sending a small cascade of the silky sand onto the already-sandy street-- that was the other thing about beach cities-- didn't quite matter how far up you got from sea-level. In the same way you could expect glitter to make its way all around the building if even one sixth grader decided they wanted their science poster to be sparkly, there was no escape from sand in a beach town.

From further down the street behind her, the damp Growlithe she'd addressed ceased his curious sniffing of a pot of sleeping Oddishes on somebody's doorstep, and broke up into a gallop to catch up with his trainer... Whereupon he slowed into a trot and proceeded to shake wet sand all over her.

"ACKplth! Cujo!"

When the spray stopped, she put her arms down and shot the dog a glare, only to be met with his usual expression of contentment as his tongue lolled out and his shaggy tail wavered back and forth.

A year ago, Heather would have turned away and grumbled foul things under her breath-- or even shoved him away with her foot-- only BARELY gently enough to not call it a kick.

Instead, she was only able to keep the glare up for a few seconds before it melted into an gentle eye-roll as she turned away, continuing to climb the steep streets on legs that last summer would have burned unpleasantly at all this uphill walking but now hardly noticed. "C'mon, you mangy mutt..."

A lot could change in a year.

A few blocks blocks higher saw the pair pause again as Heather halted on a tight corner, turning to survey the horizon. They'd made pretty good time, all things considered-- especially since they'd been all the way down on the beach just ten minutes before.

"I guess we're high enough..."

Another thing that set Olivine City apart from Goldenrod was how close everything was.

Sure, in that shiny golden city, everything was new-- tall, sleek buildings and shiny windows and great big alleys all in between. Here, as Heather mused, biting back a strained noise as she clambered onto a wheelbarrow in one of the narrow, weedy little yards to peer into the dark, dusty windows of a nearby house, everything was closer together. There were more bumps and hand-holds to grab to carry yourself up off the streets with-- it felt older. More familiar. Sort of like Johto itself did, now. Or maybe... maybe that was just her. She was okay with that.

After a few seconds of squinting, Heather nodded, then hung grimly onto the rough stone edge of the sill as she nudged the wheelbarrow out of the way with one foot and dangled before dropping back to solid ground with a sandy scrape and a grunt.

"Okay, no one's home-- c'mon, Cooj, hup!"

It would occur to her, later, that returning him to his ball and just climbing up herself, might have been easier. But as difficult as it was to have a big, wriggly (and wet) animal the size of a young St. Bernard hop into your arms without your legs buckling, for some reason, she couldn't quite bring herself to mind.

"OOF-- starting tomorrow, I'm puttin' you on a diet, fatass-- HEY, you're really not helping, here! Cut it out or I'll find an axe n'give you a makeover to look like the dogs from back home!" The words were threatening, and the tone would have been, too, if she hadn't been desperately (but somewhat unsuccessfully) trying to muffle the involuntary giggles that came with having a big sloppy canine tongue assaulting any part of her face and neck it could reach. A year ago, it would've sent her nerves into a panic-- but, well, we've already covered what can happen in a year's worth of time.

Stumbling over to a rock wall towards the back of the tiny yard, Heather shoved the squirming dog up onto it with some difficulty (as well as a disgusted "BLEAGH" noise as she tried to wipe some of the slobber off of her face with one shoulder), then proceeded to climb up behind him, herself.

Note to self, sandals: not the best climbing footwear ever.

Once she'd hauled herself upright, arms out for balance, she took another look at the skyline, pausing to catch her breath.

"Whew ... okay, we still got time. C'mon, boy."

A wobbly fence, a few broken shingles, and more than one canine backslide later, Heather crouched at their destination, reaching out with one hand to tug Cujo up beside her and sucking on a scraped finger with the other.

"Okay, I gotcha-- waitasec, you're slip-- nah, okay, you got it. Good boy."

( Read more under the cut! )

<sub>[It's probably been a week and a half or so since anybody's heard a whole lot from Heather's end of the line-- given the recent turn of events, coupled with catching up on things with her father, she just hasn't been talking much.]

[But if anyone missed the sound of yet another ranty teenager on the 'Gear network, well, today their wishes and hopes will be realized.]

[A crackle of interference precedes her voice, and in the background there's the steady rumble of a Steelix making headway on a dirt path.]</sub>


Heeeey Johto, what's crackin'?

Totally fell off the face of the planet for a bit there.

Anyway, for those who care, Goldenrod just came into sight over the hill, so Dad and I'll be strolling into town within a couple hours, probably.

I'll be lookin' for a few of you as soon as we get checked in and stuff-- you guys know who you are. _{[She's lookin' at you, Kaito. Dinner plans aside, she still needs to give him that hug.]}

And uh-- Snake, you still in the hotel? I'll heal Solid up at the Center first if you want me to, but otherwise, I'm sure he'll be glad to see his Trainer. Sorry the trip wound up takin' so long.

Anyway, uh-- ... see you guys in a few hours.

... Feel free to call me up and chat, though, the road's dusty and it's a real bore to look at for hours on end.




_{[ooc: For Action, feel free to encounter Heather in the hotel lobby or Pokemon Center healin' up her monsters after arriving.]}

_{[It's cold today. You know that miserable part of winter that comes in the last stretch before spring? It's not that somehow-festive, powdery cold with deep blue nights and busy-but-cheerful days buzzing with anticipation that stretch through December... It's not even the fresh, new whiteness of January.]}

[It's that dismal, perpetual grayness that fogs up February. You know the kind. The days are dark, the streets are full of slush, and the sidewalks are covered in black ice. It's just as cold as December, but it's somehow worse because at least in December you've got that tingly holiday feeling to keep you warm. February, on the other hand, has nothing to look forward to and it lasts forever.]

[Everybody hates February.]

[But when the feed clicks on, it's NOT outside-- it's already in the brightly-lit gym of Goldenrod City, and the camera is.... roughly at knee-level, and conveniently pointed straight at what appears to be a Miltank udder. Because that's how tall Godzilla is and lol what is that thing it's funny-lookin' and he's apparently not aware that UDDERS ARE NOT WHAT PEOPLE WANT TO LOOK AT.]

[In the background, there's a sound that should be VERY familiar now to anyone who's been watching the network recently--]
   
BWUUHHHHUHUHUHUHAAWHWHHHH! AHAWWWHHUH, y-ou-- you-- you meanie! Y-youhuhuh can't-- you just-- .... y-you're always so MEAN!  
 
_{[The camera's shifting and Whitney's white-shoed feet are pacing back and forth fitfully as she cries.]}

[Heather's voice cuts in from somewhere above. It's even and level-headed, but there's an underlying quiver that anyone who's known Heather for any length of time will recognize as being a sign that she is physically restraining herself from strangling somebody.]

Look-- lady-- ... girl-- thing, during that battle, I deliberately refrained from being mean because every friggin' time I come in here, you're fucking CRYING EVERYWHERE.

I KNOW! I r-ruh-remember you, y-you always c-come in here to w-watch your MEAN FRIENDS and then y-you c-call me a BABY!

... Well, you are!

Y-YOU'RE SO MEAN TO ME, J-JU-JUST G-GO AWUH-WAY!!!"

I CAN'T, you haven't given me the freakin' badge-- AND WILL YOU STOP CRYING?!

AAAWWHHHHUHUHUHUHUHHHHHHHHH....!!!

Oh, for fuck's sa--

_{[The feed jitters to a soundless halt around that point-- Godzilla hit a wrong button and muted the sound. However, as the minutes pass, it looks like Whitney's calming down-- consoled by her girlfriends and probably a (VERY) grudging effort on Heather's part. As this happens, the camera shifts around occasionally-- showing a battered-looking but serene Honey, an irate Arty licking at two big flat sections of her fur (during the battle, she was a Rollout Victim (tm)), and Cujo, as derpy as ever.]}

[And then, the sound comes back on-- what's this? Heather sounds even pissier than she was when Whitney was crying!]

-ok, I don't care if you have a really good hairstylist, I am not here for a haircut. I don't care that I have split ends and I don't care that my roots are showing. I am here because you won't give me my freakin' badge.

WELL. I just thought that I'd offer some advice because you clearly were raised in an environment where nobody taught you how to take care of your own personal hygie--

_{[Heather's voice is tinged with absolute disbelief.]} I am not-- I'm not even listening to this. This is bullshit.

You're friends with that girl with the gorgeous pigtails! How could you possibly be friends with her and still have such an atrocious haircu--

For friggin'-- MY HAIR IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. Give. Me. The badge. Or I will--

_{[She pauses, probably looking over her shoulder-- quite a few of her friends showed up to watch and, being much better people that she is, several of them are probably giving her VERY MEANINGFUL GLANCES RIGHT ABOUT NOW. With a deep sigh, she evidently turns back to Whitney.]}

Okay. Look. I'm sorry that I'm a huge mean asshole with awful hair. Now, will you please give me the badge?

_{[Whitney brightens up visibly on the camera and completely ignores the badge request.]}

So you admit it? YAY! Anyway, like I was saying about my stylist, he's great with hopeless cases, and seriously, I don't think you'll be able to find anyone else who can handle your hopeless case, I mean, seriously, it's that hopeless, no offense or anything, it's not like it's your fault, and--

I'd go to your stylist... _{[Heather's voice is dangerously low.]} ... if I wanted to look like a tool.

<sub>[Whitney falls silent. Her expression is that of a well-meaning but tactless teenage girl who was only trying to help. The camera zooms in on her face slowly. Her eyes... are welling up with tears again.]



... oh motherf--</sub>



[TEXT to Phoenix and Snake, sent hastily as she's coming off the battlefield-- both are in the stands.]

Dave, Phoenix-- you guys okay with leaving tomorrow?

Im packed.




_{[OOC: Action for anyone who went to see Heather battle! She probably asked several of her closest friends if they'd like to come, considering she was about to leave Goldenrod for a spell.}
For the watchers, the battle was intense and fairly close, but Heather stuck it out in the end. Honey's Stun Spore was integral.]

<sub>[There's a whole lot of jostling noises before the 'Gear, turned on in the hubbub, tumbles out of a small pile of clothes and lands on the bed, showing a jumble of items and ... general junk that Heather's allowed to accumulate in the hotel room.]

[There's a few crumpled paychecks, unfolded clothing, spare Potions and Pokeballs, and more than a few of the Christmas gifts that she'd gotten from her friends (all the candies and sweets, however, are long gone. Because if Heather didn't eat them, Honey the Butterfree was more than happy to pick up the slack.)]

[Is she... doing some early spring cleaning or what?]</sub>

Where-- ... is it? Dammit...

_{[Her voice, though slightly muffled on account of a small Girafarig plush pressed against the 'Gear's speakers, is clearly audible from somewhere off-camera. There's some sounds of stuff being shuffled or thrown about.]}

I swore I just put it d-- NO, Cujo, don't touch that! I said NO. Leave it alo-- good boy.

Okay, now where is that-- AHA.

_{[The 'Gear is plucked up out of the pile of odds and ends and the camera shows Heather's face briefly. She frowns a little bit at the sight of the red 'recording' light, but shrugs a little bit and lets her arm fall slack, giving everyone a nice, motion-blurred view of her jean leg. She seems a little harried-- too busy to care enough to turn it off.]}

Okay, I think that's just about everything-- Zilla, take that out of your mouth or I'll drop-kick you and you'll choke on it. Just gotta-- _{[Rummaging sounds.]}-- find a way to fit everything in... _{[Wait a moment, is she... packing? Since when was Heather leaving Goldenrod??]}

I think with the new bag, I should be able to-- ....


... CLAUDY. Get OUT of-- ....Claudy, NO-- aw, hell. Claudy...

<sub>[... There's a brief, resigned pause, and then Heather brings up the 'Gear to eye-level to show the network just what it is she's looking at.]

[Anybody remember Claudy's oh-so-endearing choice of habitat back when she was a cute little Hoothoot who could fit into small spaces? Anybody remember how that adorable (and very inconvenient) habit had disappeared once she had evolved into something as tall as Heather's torso? Juudai, remember how you gave her that great big RK9 sports bag for Christmas?]</sub>

<sub>[When the feed blinks on, it's snowing.]

[More specifically, it's snowing outside-- the vantage point is high, aiming downwards from the fourth-story window of Heather's hotel room at the street corner below. The snowflakes are thick and fat and have been coming down for awhile.]

[Heather is nowhere to be seen-- looks like she's the one holding the camera. Her voice, however, is clearly recognizable, albeit it's hushed-- and there's a couple of other voices in the background, too..]</sub>

Hit record. Hit record, dammi--

Okay-- okay, shut up, Liquid, I'm filming.

HHEM.

Sup, Johto?

It's just a little past one-thirty in the morning. It's snowing, and we have made a discovery.

_{[Around this point, another voice cuts in-- one belonging to a familiar disapproving scientist.]}

Heather, this really isn't something you should be broadcasting, think of those peop--

THAT DISCOVERY is that a certain street-corner is a one-ingredient recipe for destruction. Please observe.

<sub>[The camera zooms in on a corner of the sidewalk down below-- it looks innocuous enough, but hey, look at that rich, snooty-looking lady walking down the sidewalk! She's got a fashionable-looking PokeGear pinched between her shoulder and ear, and her arms are full of shopping bags. A live Furret appears to be wrapped around her neck.]

[When Heather speaks, her voice is full of barely-restrained laughter.]</sub>

She has.

No.

Idea.

That her life is about to be changed forever.

<sub>[The camera follows the woman's progress as she heads down the sidewalk-- and then, as she steps off the curb to cross the street at the corner... her feet go out from under her, her bags fly in the air, and she lands on her back on the ground, sliding gracefully across the street. The Furret, now puffed-up and horrified, trails behind her.]

[Meanwhile, there's a small explosion of muffled laughter from off-screen that continues for the entire period of time that the woman tries-- and continually fails-- to collect her bags and get up.]</sub>

AHAHAHH! Right on her ARSE!

Liquid, don't encourage her--

Ohoho my god, she just keeps falling down!

Heather, that's-- pfffhhah-- AHEM. Heather, that's NOT funny. It's-- pffff

Look-- wait-- I think she's gonna make it-- she's gonna-- ... no she's not.

<sub>[EVENTUALLY, the woman finally struggles upright and carries on her way huffily-- but the video goes onwards.]

[For those staying on Heather's channel, they will be treated to footage of many individuals-- random teenagers, businessmen, even a traveling Nurse Joy-- all coming face to face with the dreaded Icy Corner and losing the battle in various hilarious, slapstick ways.]

[And then, eventually ... A certain individual of note comes walking down the street. Who could it be? Well, Heather doesn't recognize him (considering the circumstances under which they met), although he'd certainly recognize her if he saw her...]




[The camera zooms in on him, shakily.]</sub>

Oh my god. Oh my god. It's a policeman.

Is he prepared.

HEATHER. Do you have NO respec--

--To meet the Corner of Doom?

You are a sadistic child.

Let's find out.



( Will Jerry survive??? )


[ooc: Green is Otacon, Orange is Liquid, normal is Heather.]

_{[Backdated to earlier on Friday morning, close to noon.]}



[Text to Otacon and Liquid.]

I'm running ahead a bit

Gotta meet somebody.

I don't think there's far left to go though so if I don't see you before we get there I'll catch up with you in the city ok?

peace out



[Text to Kaito]
Hey, how far've you gotten??

I can see POLLUTION over the treetops which means I've gotta be getting close-- hope I didn't pass you yet.




_{[That overcast gray sky overhead is somehow oppressive, even on the video feed. Yet, Heather looks cheerful. Maybe she doesn't notice it-- it IS rather... tame on the surface in comparison to the ghastly fog that had come rolling in on silent feet before the hallucinations had set in about a month ago... Not to mention this weird overcast state is more or less the norm a lot of the time where Heather comes from. Or maybe it's just that she's happy to be on the road again-- it's the first time she's made a transmission of her own since leaving Azalea. Not to mention now that Minnie's safe, the trip has a bit less urgency to it.]}

Man, I don't know about anybody else, but I'm sure glad that frosty air is gone...


Anyway, uh-- guys, I had a question.

What kinds of Pokemon are around here? Hal caught one of those... teleporting bald fox things, but I haven't seen much of anything else. _{Except for the bugs in my sleeping bag at night... [THANKS SNAKE YOU REALLY HELPED HER SLEEP SOUNDLY.]}


It's kinda been awhile since I've caught anything, and while I am gonna be getting the rest of my guys back soon, Cooj is getting uh... sorta tired.

_{[... Not that it, you know, showed. He was still romping merrily in and out of the frame as Heather walked. But it was true enough, now that she was going ahead by herself and the Growlithe had to do all the battling on his own, the traveling without aid of Pokemon Center was making him a little less enthusiastic about chasing things off.]}

I don't even think I have any Pokeballs, but ... any recommendations?

I'm open to anything.





.... Except those things.

_{[The turns the camera around to point at a small gaggle of mostly-concealed Jigglypuff in the grass that have seemingly been following her.]}

There is a reason I have not tried to catch you, Weird Round Pink Things.


Go away.


_{[End feed.]}










[Text to Minnie-- PRIVATE.]
Hey Minnie

How you doing?

Are you somewhere safe now?

<sub>[Beep beep! What's that, Lassie? An incoming message?! Oh, looks like it's coming from one Hal 'Otacon' Emmerich's PokeGear! How lovely. What does the nerd have to say toda-- .... HEY, THAT'S NOT OTACON!]

[The screen blips into life on a face that's bruised, scraped, and... freckled?]

[Once its owner is sure the thing is on, she withdraws-- making herself a little easier to identify. Sheepish smile and all.]



[Behind her appears to be a standard little camp set up in the woods-- nothing... really fancy. But she's not the only one there-- somewhere behind her, there's.... some shirtless guy wandering around and his indistinct bitching about something or other can be heard.]

[The mat-furred, sleepy Growlithe in her lap just looks content to be there, although it's obvious he's had it as rough as his owner.]</sub>

So. Uh.


_{[Her voice is a painful-sounding croak-- hardly more than a shadow of what it is normally.]}

Apparently I'm a wanted criminal.

... Anyone know what I did? ... Was it awesome?

I love that mugshot. It's so majestic.

<sub>[Yeah, she's making light of it, but her heart's not... really into it. Though it's sort of hard to tell the difference between that and the plain old exhaustion that's obviously leaking into her every movement and word.]

[... Meanwhile, in the background, Liquid has noticed that the camera's on and has started flexing his manly man-muscles at it in true Photobomb fashion. Heather doesn't notice yet.]</sub>

Uh... anyway... I'm not... sure how long I was gone, and my 'Gear is uh... pretty thoroughly broken-- Hal's off in town getting stuff to repair it with, so... if anyone... like, tried to contact me, m'sorry, I probably didn't get it...


I uh... really hope everyone's all right.

_{[She probably doesn't need to clarify that she's talking about that fog. Now that she knows what had happened wasn't real, and that others had experienced their OWN nightmares... well, let's just say she's really hoping she didn't knock anyone's skull in. ... And the question "DID I knock anyone's skull in?" is implied at the end of her statement.]}

......

_{[And around that time, her Heather Senses pick up on Liquid's trolling behind her, so she reaches out to turn the camera off while looking over her shoulder.]}


Liquid, get the fuck out.

_{[End feed.]}




[Locked to Kaito and Rise]

[Another video feed, a little later than the first one, but not by too long. Otacon apparently was able to fix the 'Gear enough that Heather could receive those two messages that had been waiting a good week and a half to be received by this point.]

[And... judging by her hardly-disguised guilty expression, she's more than feeling the weight of guilt for worrying her friends. Especially since she saw Rise just the previous day and hadn't... even known how ... candid a message she'd left days before.]

[After a couple seconds, she breaks into a sheepish, crooked grin.]

Uh... hey, guys...


... I got your messages...



[Locked to Harry, James, and Mary]

<sub>[This one's in text, because she knows good and well that James at the very least will be freaking out over how she looked in that video feed, and she's not sure she can take his quiet concerned expressions.]

[But she can't avoid sending this-- if she saw Silent Hill in that fog, then she's... pretty sure that they'd have seen something similar. ... Well, she's not sure about Mary, actually, but given the connection... better safe than sorry.]</sub>

are you guys alright

(typing is hard, sorry for no caps)_

-heather

[ooc: Slightly backdated, it's shortly after Heather finished her emotional rollercoaster convo civilized discussion with Liquid.]



_{[Feed cuts in on Heather's face, with the city streets in the background bobbing up and down as she walked. She looks... still exhausted, but better than before! That doom and gloom has sort of lifted.]}

Okay. So. Forgot to say anything about this, but-- back in town. Was gone for awhile and stuff. I miss anything? You guys didn't have too much fun without me, did you?

_{[There's a metallic swish as the door to the Pokemon Center slides open and she steps inside, despite her... professed antagonistic relationship with the resident nurses.]}

Anyway, on a more serious note, bunch of you've beaten that Gym guy lately...

... Anyone got tips?

... Otacon, I'm lookin' at you.

_{[Oh yeah, she saw that video post, even if she'd been a little too preoccupied to comment on it.]}

_{[When the camera comes on, Heather is looking half-asleep, and very confused. It's daybreak and the sky is still pale overhead.]}

Uh.... Hey, Rise? If you get this, I got a question for ya...

<sub>[Because Rise is her buddy and she's the first person Heather remembers actually hatching something.]

[The camera turns to show a very strange object sitting at the foot of Heather's sleeping bag:]</sub>


This was... totally just... there when I woke up this morning. It definitely wasn't there last night. I haven't seen one like it before, either... I thought maybe Claudy laid it or something, but it's like... bigger than she is.

_{[Heather isn't the only one confused by the egg's presence, either-- the infamous Hoothoot, not hiding in Heather's pack like normal at the moment, is curiously investigating the egg and doing what appears to be a mildly-alarmed dance involving a lot of head-bobbing and moving from foot to foot (but minus the shitty music). The egg is, indeed, bigger than she is.]}

Any clue what it is?

... Or how it got here?

<sub>[Of course Heather would leave her packing until a few minutes before she was going to leave]

[The gear's camera is turned on by accident as it's bumped around by her hurried shoving-of-random-crap into her bag, and the viewer is treated to a sideways view of the Pokemon Center. It's daybreak-- the lobby is quiet and just now starting to be lit by the windows rather than the fluorescent ceiling lights. Looks like after spending a week or so off by herself in the woods or something for reasons unknown, she came back to get ooooone last night's sleep in the comfort of a building before she set off again.]

[Finally, she lifts the tightpacked bag over her shoulder and adjusts her collar before picking up the 'Gear. Noting the camera's on, she offers the screen a tired grin and a little salute.]</sub>

Headin' back in the direction of Cherrygrove. I'll be back in a week or so, I guess. Unless there's another Beedrill swarm're somethin'. That'd suck.

If anyone needs me... gimme a call.

... Or I guess you could just clutch at your hair and start screaming until I come back. That works too.

_{[And with that, she's off out the automatic door and into the increasingly-warm morning air. Heather was never much for backtracking, but this was a special case.]}