<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.]}

<sub>[Oh, man. Oh man, oh man, oh man.]

[It had taken an entire year.]

[For a couple months past 365 days, Heather's life had been blessedly free of something she'd always known was possible but had never seriously considered would happen. Lulled into a false sense of security by her general good luck regarding which people from her own world showed up here, she supposed.]

[All decent folks. No cultists. No creepers.]



[... Until now.]

[It takes her a bit to decide exactly what she's going to do about it. She can't just sit there, after all. She has to tell some people. ... Not everybody. That would be stupid, and attract unwanted attention. Not to mention, he'd probably just find it funny. No, she'll just... tell a few.]

[Some people who already knew a little about... that place. She'd already GOTTEN a message from L, which meant that she wasn't the only person paying attention. But she's not so sure about the rest of her friends. So without any further ado...]</sub>


Hey

If you've got a free moment, I gotta talk to you. It's important.



<sub>[... There. That'll do for starters...]

[Shutting the 'Gear, she sets it down on the bed for the moment. Now to take care of the OTHER thing.]</sub>

Hey, Dad? Henry?

<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.]}

[ooc: BEEN AWHILE SINCE THERE'S BEEN ONE OF THESE, HUH. Solid the _{Onix Steelix and Butch the Quagsire are used with permission from Snake and Phoenix's players, respectively. As usual, reading this TL;DR monstrosity is TOTALLY NOT NEEDED so feel free to skip over it completely to the Action/Voice section of this post!]}

( Read more... )

Because here she was, sitting on a giant snake made of metal, with a bird in the hood of her vest and an electric-mouse-containing egg nestled in her small carrying bag, which was swinging gently back and forth from where it hung on one of the many convenient spikes jutting from the back of her mount’s neck.

No matter how vehemently she’d sworn to never pass through that city where she’d so thoroughly managed to make a bad impression on every last law-abiding resident around, there was no way she was going to sit tight and wait for her father to struggle his way through a completely foreign land to her. Not after what happened last time. She wouldn’t sit idly by and wait for the universe to snatch her second chance away again. Hell no.

She had saved the friggin’ world.

She could handle walking through Violet City and getting side-eyed by all the Nurse Joys if it meant actually being able to hug her father again.

The last time Heather had made this trip, it had been at the tail-end of winter and she’d been accompanied by two other people and their teams of Pokemon, and therefore a great deal of distracting noise.

This time around, the only sounds were the morning birdsong, a patter of light rain, and that great echoing vastness that characterized every large forest-- … well, that and the deep, metallic groaning of Solid’s body winding his way between the trees, deepening the already well-trodden trail. It was a noise that made her think of the far-off thrum of machinery that she had sometimes been able to hear in that town, like some sort of industrial heartbeat. But in this case, it was … a little more comforting, knowing that the thing creating the sound was her.

The newly-evolved Steelix was not the most comfortable of rides, but from her perch behind the steel serpent’s head, Heather couldn’t find it in her to complain about it too much. Snake had given her one of the dubious looks she’d come to expect from him when she’d asked him if she could borrow the Pokemon, but after a brief, heartfelt explanation, he’d handed the Pokeball over to her with firm instructions to be careful on her own.

She fully intended to.

It would be beyond lame if she somehow died on her way just when her father had returned to Johto, this time knowing who she was.

Heather sank forward to let her chin rest on her arms, which were folded on the cold metal cranium in front of her, grimacing slightly as Solid skirted around a bramble patch with a chorus of think shrieking sounds from the thorns on his sides.

“’Least the last time I did this, I had Phoenix’s sissy-yelling to distract me,” she mumbled to herself, shifting slightly to alleviate the ache of sitting on bumpy metal for hours on end. She was pretty sure she’d sat at high school desks more comfortable than this. “… And I could move around without sliding straight off.”

The sun should have been peeking through the bud-covered branches by now, but the cold drizzle that would go on to permeate the rest of the day had slipped in during the night, painting the misty woods in a monotonous set of gray-greens. It wasn’t really rain so much as just an all-encompassing wetness. And while Solid’s body had been pretty easy to hang onto when he was an Onix, now that he was coated in slick metal armor, the condensation mare it more or less impossible to get up while in motion without risking your feet flying out from under you and then the rest of you shortly following suit and careening off into the undergrowth like the star of an America’s Funniest Home Video. So not worth it, even if it was uncomfortable.

“I should make some kinda ‘Please remain seated while the vehicle is in motion’ sign before we get to Dad…”

A squawk of apparent agreement sounded from behind her head, where Wren the Murkrow, now a fluffy black mass of squirmy, toddler-aged bird, was bundled up in the hood of her trainer’s vest. Letting her ride in there meant having to put up with a lot of hair-tugging and the occasional ear-nibble, but it was nice having a neck-warmer.

Heather quirked a brow over her shoulder.

“What’re you fussing about? You don’t even have to worry about a sore butt. You get to ride in style. I should be charging you or something.”

She expected the bird to settle down at the sound of her voice as usual, but the squalling continued, more insistently—and Wren started to scrabble out of the hood and onto Heather’s bare shoulder, whapping her in the side of the face with a flaily wing in the process.

“OW! Hey! Don’t do that, you can’t fly ye—OW!”

Gritting her teeth, Heather adjusted her balance before lifting both hands and trying to grapple the little bird into a secure hold so that she wouldn’t go fluttering off into the forest, never to be seen again. She got her fingers nipped viciously for the effort.

“Frickin’—hold still, y’little monster—hey. HEY.”

Finally pinning Wren’s wings to her sides, Heather lifted the bird up inn front of her face to glare squarely at her.

“What’s the big id— … no, I’d rather you not attach yourself to my nose, thanks. It’s tempting, but no.”

Denied the opportunity to vent-via-biting her displeasure at being detained from wherever it was she planned on going, the Murkrow just wiggled in Heather’s grasp and angled her head backwards to stare intensely in the direction she’d initially been going, yellow beak wide open and continuing to emit noises like a cat stuck in a trash can with a firecracker. Heather sighed.

“Look, I’m gonna have to put you back in the ball if you decide to be a brat— huh? … What’re you looking at? Whoa, whoa, slow down, Solid.”

Turning her attention away from the bird in her hands for a moment, Heather squinted down with furrowed brows at the bracken-covered terrain below. At first, nothing seemed to be amiss—maybe Wren just really wanted to go explore and was being overdramatic about it. But then something had caught her eye.

A large, pale blue blob—she’d almost thought it was a big rock at first, but no normal rock was that smooth or shiny. … And it looked familiar.

“WHOA! Whoa—Solid, stop! Stop! Down, let me off!”

With a deep, groaning in reply, the mighty snake ground slowly to a halt and lowered his head to the forest floor. Before his broad lower jaw even made contact with the earth, Heather was already stuffing Wren back into her hood and leaping down to the damp ground.

The ‘shiny rock’ raised its head just slightly from where it was huddled under a clump of ferns, opening its beady little eyes to stare at the three figures, one small, one medium, and one massive. It did not move from its meager shelter. Just stared, with the corners of its wide mouth stretched downwards and its big, webby paws tucked under itself like a large, amphibious cat.

Heather gave Solid’s side a distracted pat before taking a wary step forward, holding onto her hood to keep Wren contained. The creature curled up on the ground a few meters in front of her was familiar, but… she had never once seen him wearing anything but a big doofy smile. Was this… the same one?

“… Butch?” she asked cautiously.

The Quagsire’s eyes lit up and he let out a few grunting chuffs as he got to his oversized feet, rudderlike tail starting into a feeble wag. Making happy bugling sounds, the big blue amphibian waddled his way over to the teen, who for once didn’t make a face as he clamped his cold, clammy arms around her legs in a hug and stared up at her adoringly.

“Wh—Butch, what the heck’re you doing all the way out here?! I thought Phoenix was in Cherrygrove! I—oof!”

She was cut off as Butch butted his head against her middle affectionately (and over-enthusiastically), letting go of her hood so that she could detach the Quagsire from herself long enough to figure out what was going on. Hands on his slimy shoulders, she looked him square in the round, dotlike eyes.

“Butch. I’m serious, where is Phoenix?”

The smile (which was more reminiscent of the faces that Butch usually made) that had sprung across his face when Heather had recognized him drooped back into an upside-down ‘U’ and he let out a long, crooning whine that was as unsure as it was sad.

The barest beginnings of a flutter of panic started beating its wings deep in her gut.

“… Okay, just— … you just sit tight here. I’ll call him and let him know I found you, okay?”

Reaching into her pocket, she tugged out her PokeGear and started to move away, only for what passed for brows on the Quagsire’s mostly-spherical head starting to peak. He started to tug on her arm, making muted, unhappy sounds.

“Wh—Butch, no, just—stay here, all right? I promise, I’m calling him—okay. Y’know what, look—here.”

Grabbing Wren from her hood with both hands, she presented the young crow Pokemon to Butch.

“Remember Wren? You batted her egg around Phoenix’s room that time in the Center every time I walked out for like five minutes. You’re probably the reason she’s such a nut. She’ll keep you company—just lemme go for a bit, okay?”

Once the two Pokemon were sufficiently distracted with each others’ presence, Heather left them under the watchful eye of Solid and made her escape from the circle, walking to the edge of where the trees began to grow thicker and pulling Phoenix’s number up as she went.

Dialing...... |

Her fingers twisted the little belt-loop cord dangling from the ed of the device around and around as she waited, mumbling tensely under her breath.

“C’mon, c’mon…”

A brief dialing tone, and then…

ERROR: NUMBER NO LONGER IN USE. beeeeeeep.


“… No. No. Must’ve—hit the wrong number or something.”

Trying to ignore the growing sick feeling that was gnawing at her insides, Heather scrolled through the contacts list again. There. PHOENIX WRIGHT, with ‘lawyer-man’ and ‘phoenix + ledges = <3’ listed in the slot underneath it for a description, a result of some late-night conversation from months past. She hit ‘Send’.

Dialing...... |

The strap was wound so tightly around her index finger that the tip was turning purple. She noticed, but didn’t really care.

“C’mon. Pick up. Pick up, lawyer-man. This isn’t funny. Pick the hell up.”

ERROR: NUMBER NO LONGER IN USE. beeeeeeep.

“No! Fuck you. Put me through, you goddamn piece of junk!”

A horrid, hollow feeling was starting to creep in, starting at the knees and working its way up. It was that empty sensation you got when you went up or down in an elevator a little too quickly—like her organs had all been carved out, leaving a space with nothing in it. She felt lightheaded. Her knees threatened to buckle.

SEND.

He never DID answer that last message… NO.

She shook the thought from her mind— literally giving her head a toss, as if the physical motion would somehow help dislodge the creeping sense of dismay. Her knuckles were white where they gripped the ’Gear.

“Don’t do this to me, man. Don’t do this. I know you’re there. You’ve gotta be there. Stop kidding around and pick up—”

ERROR: NUMBER NO LONGER IN USE. beeeeeeep.

“NO.”

SEND dsgklj

Heather had argued ferociously that Phoenix wouldn’t disappear. Would never disappear. That she wouldn’t let him get snatched away from this place like that so crudely—this place of second chances and friendships that never would have happened anywhere but here.

But as reality came crashing in, words from all the way back in February came drifting back up into Heather’s mind, like some water-rotten body floating to the top of a lake, straight from the mouth of one Dahlia Hawthorne, the woman who’d tried to murder him right here in Johto.

Can you really be so sure, Heather? Nothing is certain in this world. What if he just... disappears one night while he sleeps, right under your nose?

But… but he hadn’t.

He couldn’t have.

People disappeared all the time in Johto— important people, even people she liked— but never the ones that were hers. Never the people she’d talked to almost every day at times, the people who had sat up with her on bad nights and let her cry her stupid teenage tears on their shoulder even as she tracked dirt and snow all over their furniture. Never the people who’d come checking up on her anxiously for days after that, hovering like tie-wearing, spiky-haired mother hens until she’d just hauled off and started chucking pillows at them every time they poked their head in the door. Never the people who’d cared enough to talk the truth out of her even though she’d given them every reason never to try and help her ever again.

Never her best friends.

“C’mon, Phoenix, you gotta—just—you gotta be here, don’t do this… I haven’t paid you BACK for everything yet—and DAD’S here, I wanted—I wanted you to meet him after everything I told you, and after—after you—hell, YOU’RE the one who freakin’ got me THROUGH what happened before—you’re like the biggest, shiniest example of the fact that I can make friends with GOOD PEOPLE and I wanted him to meet you, and just—just PICK THE FUCK UP, all right?! Pick UP, Phoenix, I’m NOT kidding arou—”

ERROR: NUMBER NO LONGER IN USE. beeeeeeep.

“No! NO! You can’t!”

Fully aware that the hot, burning feeling in her eyes that was making the trees blur in front of her was unwanted tears, Heather snarled and tried to slam the SEND button again, only to hit the wrong key and turn on the radio instead. She found DJ Mary’s overly perky voice obnoxious even under normal circumstances, but having it blare into her ear right now was nothing short of some sickening insult in Heather’s eyes, and she reacted as she would to any other insult.

Snapping the ’Gear shut so hard it wouldn’t have surprised her if she cracked the screen, she flung it at the ground with every ounce of strength in her scrawny arms. It bounced a little on the spongy soil. That wasn’t satisfying enough, so before she even thought to stop herself (because, you know, the ’Gear was sort of important…), she drew her leg back and sent it spinning off across the little clearing with a vicious kick and a frustrated yell.

That didn’t help much, either.

Behind her, she could hear a concerned rumble from Solid. Not being one of her own Pokemon, he had probably never seen her lose her temper before. She didn’t look over her shoulder— just let out a huff that disguised a hitch of the chest, and wiped her eyes with one hand while clenching the other.

That old urge was rising again, the urge to just let her fists fly against something solid until she didn’t feel like she was going to explode anymore.

Sights set on a gnarled tree trunk, Heather gritted her teeth and stomped towards it, raising her fist— … only to stop when her blurred vision settled on the gnarled, shiny white scare tissue decorating her knuckles.

A souvenir from the last time something like this had happened.

They probably wouldn’t be permanent scars—they’d fade with time. But they weren’t gone yet, and Heather felt her throat tightening as she looked at them.

Phoenix had bandaged those self-inflicted wounds.

Bandaged them and told her, in that slightly-deadpan but still concerned way of his that the next time she got the urge to turn her hands into raw hamburger, she could come to him.

“… Well I can’t do that now… jerk…”

Her voice was smaller and more choked-up than she wanted it to be, and somehow the sound of it made, at long last, the hot tears came spilling out over her cheeks and plopping down into the dirt. Dropping her fist, she just stood there for a moment, shoulders quaking.

After a time, a plaintive “Quaaaag…” sounded behind her and one of Butch’s clammy flippers pawed at her elbow.

She swiped an arm across her eyes hastily and looked over her shoulder at the trio of concerned Pokemon. Even the normally rambunctious Wren had gone quiet and was staring up at her trainer with alarmed red eyes.

After a solemn pause, Heather heaved a deep sigh and sniffed, scrubbing at her face. “Sorry, guys… um…”

With a wet cough, Heather started to head for the trees to retrieve her PokeGear… then changed her mind and turned back towards the Steelix with a dismissive hand-wave. She’d get another one in Violet, they were cheap and easy to replace. And she didn’t… particularly want to talk to anyone right now.

“You can come with us, Butch... let’s go.”

Once the heavy water Pokemon had been helped (with some difficulty) onto Solid’s back and Wren was safely re-situated in Heather’s hood, the motley crew was off again. With Butch behind her and her arms folded once more on the back of Solid’s head, Heather buried her face in them and tuned out the rest of the world entirely.

She’d rather not be awake.



[Three days later….]




[They had arrived in Violet three days after that, on Saturday.]


  _{[Heather wasn't planning on staying in the city long enough to justify paying for a hotel room.]}

[So she and her team of six (plus one Quagsire) were crashed in the hotel lobby during this brief rest stop, taking advantage of the few daylight hours that a trainer could feasibly get away with doing this (before getting kicked out by a stern employee saying 'There's a free Center right down the street for moochers!' in admonishing tones). And with the Easter festivities going on outside, there weren't many people milling about in the lobby to stare oddly at the dirty, travel-sore girl being a bum with her Pokemon.]

[Heather was curled up tightly on the couch, staring straight ahead. The team were all asleep around her, but she just couldn't slip out of wakefulness. Now that the rigor of the road wasn't around to distract her, the full reality of what had happened had time to sink in.]

[She supposed, all things considered, that she should have expected something like this. Some price to be paid. Her father showing up had just seemed too good a gift to be true, especially after she had let the last present go without even trying. Of course she wouldn't get him back without having to let something go. It was even sort of fair.]

[... She just hadn't expected that thing would be the person who had gotten her through the first time Harry had vanished from Johto.]

[On the floor beside the sofa, Butch sighed deeply in his sleep.]

[He'd been taking it well, all things considered... not much could keep the happy-go-lucky creature down for long.]

[Heather, on the other hand... well, she'd cycled through most of the typical emotional responses to the situation... From shocked disbelief to sadness to guilt at ... Right now she was settled on just ... being mad. Mad at the world for giving her the one thing she'd longed for but then taking away something so important as payment. Mad at herself for not having paid closer attention. Mad at Dahlia for accurately predicting that Phoenix would vanish. ... And mad at Phoenix for leaving before she could properly introduce him to the man whose loss he'd comforted her through.]

[She knew it was stupid. She knew it was totally irrational, and that it wasn't his fault at al l.]

 [... But she was still mad.]

[A thought struck her and she shifted slightly to pull the brand new PokeGear she'd picked up earlier from her pocket. Might as well break it in... she'd have to make this announcement sooner or later, anyhow...] 
 

[AUDIO]

_{[It's the first anybody's probably heard from Heather in a few days. No video, because she doesn't feel like showing her sorry face on the network while it's still all blotchy and obviously-was-crying-like-three-seconds-ago.]}

[Even so, her voice is... very noticeably OFF. It's thick and croaky and flat-- none of the usual pep and pizazz that usually characterized her transmissions.]

Hey... so...

If anyone's seen Phoenix Wright... I've got Butch here.

... I'll just... y'know. Hang onto him until...

Yeah.

_{[... A pause, and then a click. She can't bring herself to make a graceful close to that message.]}

.....


_{[... But, as an afterthought...]}

You're dead meat.






|





_{[ooc: Anyone walking through the Violet City hotel lobby is free to spot Heather!]}

  
_{[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--





_{[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.

<sub>[Heather is sitting in the lobby of the Violet inn. This would not be too remarkable, except for the fact that there's a couple of gift-y looking boxes in front of her. She's staring at them with an expression that's a ... very weird combination of confused and... slightly unsettled.]

[Pretty much only the fact that one of them had Kaito's name on it was stopping her from throwing them away entirely. The one from flaming blanket man was even more baffling. Obviously neither of them were what made this weird in the slightest-- Kaito was one of her best friends for crying out loud, and the Proff' was probably the least threatening person she'd ever MET-- but mystery gifts held some unfortunate associations for Heather. ... But hey, even if they didn't, the boxes' existence left her with a resounding case of ".... HUH?"]

[Why were they here?]

[Was it some kind of silly prank?]

[Did they think it was her birthday?]

[WHAT WAS THIS.]

[She had to know, so ... when in doubt, turn to the network.]</sub>


So, uh....

_{[The camera's not showing the boxes (since she has no idea anyone else got any so she's not sure if she should show them or not.]}

Any of you guys get mail that-- ... uh...

_{[... And then her brows furrow.]}

... Wren-- Wren, cut that out.

<sub>[She gets up abruptly and the network'll get a glimpse of an obscenely fuzzy young Murkrow with an epic case of bed-head plumage sitting on top of one of the boxes and viciously fighting with a bit of ribbon before the feed cuts out.]


[Anyone walking around the inn will find Heather looking at the boxes with a mixture of trepidation and confusion.]</sub>





[TEXT TO KAITO]

Hey Kaito, uh

What's up with the boxes?

<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.]

_{[Given the work week, Heather has not had a chance to really enjoy the snow that much. Whether the Pokemon world celebrates Christmas the same way most 'normal' ones do is up for debate, but one thing is clear: holiday shopping is universal. The Department Store has been going absolutely insane with gaudy decorations and increasingly-frenzied customers buying up everything in sight. Between the exhaustion and the ever-earlier setting of the sun, Heather's been spent by the time she gets off of work.]}

[Friday night was spent mostly-asleep under a pile of blankets and obscenely fluffy winter-coated Pokemon (Arty and Cujo both seemed to have doubled in volume in the past few weeks), and when the gray winter morning light crept in through the snow-lined window, it fell largely upon the same scene. SOMEWHERE under there, there was a human being. ... Or maybe they had just eaten Heather and the tuft of scruffy blond hair and the single disembodied foot sticking out from between blanket and Cujo's tawny belly were in fact the only pieces left of her. Who could tell?]

... MREEP

_{[The alarm on the PokeGear (which was ... poking out of the blankets somewhere, giving a glorious view of the hopeless chaos that was Heather's bed. Of COURSE the alarm function had randomly turned on the video feed, too-- alarms always did dumb shit like that without being told to) had turned on, and-- oh, look at that. A scrawny, pale arm had emerged from somewhere amid the dogpile (literally) and was now groping around in search of the 'Gear. Looked like Heather was alive under there after all.]}

Hmghghh... where're you, dumb ... dumb thing.

MREEP MREEP MREEP

_{[Her hand encountered the roly-poly form of a sleeping Totodile and shoved him to the side unceremoniously before finally getting to the actual 'Gear.]}

Ugh, there you are... _{[Sitting up and making Cujo slide off the bed with an elegant thump, Heather stared blearily at the 'Gear and shut off the alarm. Ugh what time was i-- ... OH HEY IT WAS SATURDAY. FUCK YEAH, SNOW TIME.]}

[The 'Gear was dropped briefly onto the bed once more and the sleepy Pokemon came awake with various stretches and growls as their Trainer hopped around, one-handedly tugging on her (un-eaten) boots and a fresh-from-the-department-store new coat-- yeah, it was finally too cold for her to continue going sleeveless.]

--C'mon, Cooj!

_{[The Growlithe struggled out of the blankets he had wrapped himself in with an excited woof and Heather grabbed up the 'Gear again, turning the radio on as she headed for the door, one mitten in her mouth.]}

Ghotta getd'guys...

_{[Stamping one foot a little harder than the other to get her heel more firmly down into position, Heather clomped over to the door to Liquid and Otacon's room and raised her fist to knock obnoxiously as usua--- .... oh.]}

[Oh yeah.]

[Deflating, she lowered her fist sheepishly. There were already new people in that room and she'd just come preeeetty close to waking them up at like nine in the morning. Aawwwkward.]

--And the weather's just getting colder, citizens of Johto, so us here at the weather department would like to advise you all to stay bundled up indoors instead of trying to go out today! _{[--buzzed the weatherman's voice over the 'Gear's radio. Frowning down at the screen, Heather sank back to lean against the hallway's wall and heaved a big sigh.]}


.... Hnm. Maybe we should just...

_{[She trailed off there to look down at Cujo, who was staring adoringly up to her and wagging his entire body more than he was actually wagging his tail. WALK?? WALK? WALK?! OHPLEASE? circle?]}


.... Ugh, you know what?

Screw the cold. _{[... And screw the absence of Otacon and Liquid. Snake had said their being gone was no reason why they couldn't have a good time back here in Goldenrod, right?]}

[Jutting her chin out stubbornly, Heather pulled on her hat.]






_{[ooc: ACTION FOR THOSE IN GOLDENROD. Feel free to encounter Heather out in the snow if your character is hardcore enough to be trying to be out there on a day like this. Or feel free to try and stop her. EITHER OR.]}

<sub>[Things have been oddly silent on Heather's end of the line over the past day or so. She hasn't been responding much to other transmissions, or even to private messages. Right after all that chaos, too-- you'd think that given she WORKED at the Goldenrod Department Store, she'd be on the network constantly with all kinds of 'This is CRAZY, you guys'-style transmissions about Evil Bitch-Supervisor of Death bullying all the Officer Jennies for not stopping the robbery or how there was a soda machine with a fist-shaped hole clean through it or something. But no-- nothing.]

[And her friends at the hotel may have noticed that she didn't wind up coming back to her room that night.]

[When the feed does come on, it's a little more obvious as to why.]



[What? Heather in a POKEMON CENTER? Could she be...? ... Nah. She's obviously not in there for herself, although both of her arms are heavily bandaged and a few nasty-looking, angry red scratches are peeking over the edge of the gauze.]

[But she's sitting hunched on the floor by one of the recovery-ward beds for Pokemon, her vest lying in cushioning pile behind her and a battered-looking Cujo asleep by her side. She looks tired... even more tired than she's been otherwise, lately, which was saying something. And judging by the way she kept glancing up at the Pokeballs encased in the incubatory healing device sitting gently on the cot next to where she's sitting, her Pokemon are the real reason she's in here.]


[The camera shakes, then bobbles a little closer, and Heather finally notices. She turns her head to the camera, frowning at first, but then a wry, half-amused smile quirks her mouth slightly.]</sub>

Was wondering where you were, y'little weirdo.

_{[She leans over and reaches out, grabbing the camera and tugging it with some difficulty away from whatever's holding it]}

You must be worried if you're not chewing on it... the other guys are fine. Relax.

_{[The mystery-filmer is revealed as the fat little Totodile toddles over and tries to wedge itself into Heather's lap. She rolls her eyes and lets out a gusty sigh but lets her legs slide down so that there's more room. Now that the camera's on her, though, she frowns a little at the sight of the little red 'Record' light, but then shrugs. Oh well. While she's on...]}


So, uh, police.

The hell were you last night?

I could've used the help.

<sub>[Her tone makes it obvious that working with the cops isn't exactly the first thing on her agenda, but there you go.]

[She doesn't need to say that a lot of people got hurt-- the rest of the network probably already knows that, it's had to have been all over the news by now.]</sub>


Anyway...

_{[She goes quiet again, rubbing the back of her head. Scritch. She... doesn't feel as talkative as usual.]}


... Oh yeah. Last thing. Joker.

_{[Reaching out next to her, she picks a handful of something that chinks and glitters in the low light. A bunch of coins! She grins.]}


Think you dropped these, Bozo.

Great job.




( Aaaand for those who might have been around the aftermath of Joker's getaway last night... )


_{[ooc: Feel free to action if your character was injured during/after the robbery and they'd be in the Pokemon Center too!]}

<sub>[Guess who suddenly has a LOT more free time after being forcibly given less hours at the department store? Turns out lying about your age to get a full-time job is only funny as long as you're getting away with it. She's not complaining too much, though. Now that the initial post-poverty 'Oh my god I have to get money immediately so that I am not depending on others to feed me I MUST RECLAIM MY INDEPENDENCE' panic has passed, she's actually remembered why she always hated working long shifts anyway. This meant less time spend in the company of the Psycho Bitchmonster of Despair.]

[The video pops on with her in her room, viciously re-ruffling her hair with one hand to return it to its usual flyaway state after it'd been trapped under that stupid clerk hat all day.]</sub>

'Sup, Johto.

So uh, I had a question, actually.

You know those blue crocodiles? Um-- Totodile, I guess they're called?

What... exactly are they supposed to eat after they've hatched? I mean, I sort of assumed that 'meat' would be on the menu, but 'Zilla here's kind of been eating... well. Everything.

_{[Turning the camera away from her face, she pointed it over to the window where, in a patch of sunlight, a happily-snoozing baby Totodile was curled among the remains of something that had once been one of Heather's boots. A short distance away, the other boot lay carelessly discarded with a large chomp taken out of the heel.]}

Is.... is this normal?

_{And should I be pumping his stomach?}





Text to Liquid

hey Liquid I gotta ask you something

Are you in your room?

regardless I am going to come and knock obnoxiously on the door in maybe ten minutes so BE PREPARED

_{[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?

_{[When the camera comes on, Heather's lying on her back on her sleeping bag with Cujo draped over her stomach and a sulky expression on her face. The bandage formerly tied over her eye (looking distinctly nasty now) is crumpled off to the side and in its place is a hot compress, which she's holding gently to the wounded area with one hand. She seems to be holding the PokeGear up above her with the other. Least flattering Myspace-shot ever.]}

So-- how long do I have to keep this thing on?

_{[She's talking to somebody off-camera and judging by the ever-so-patient tone of the reply she gets, which is sort of indistinct but along the lines of 'Until I say you can take it off', that somebody is Otacon.]}

But Haaaaaal.

_{[There is no reply.]}

..... Fine, fine...

I'll just stay here and stew in my misery.

_{[There's a laugh from off the screen and another indistinct reply that is apparently amused at Heather's overdramatic whining and not sympathetic like she'd been hoping. So Heather makes a pouty face and turns her head just slightly so that she can stick her tongue out in his general direction before looking back to the camera.]}


His Dictatorship over there is reveling in his regime of oppression and I'm bored.

Someone please distract me.

_{[SHE'D EVEN WELCOME KNOCK-KNOCK JOKES. THAT IS HOW LOW SHE HAS SUNK.]}

<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

<sub>[Heather's been scarce. There are a few reasons for this. One, she's sort of embarrassed about having her butt totally kicked by Falkner, and two... she's also kind of totally broke, and doesn't dare try to stay in the Pokemon Center now that she can't afford the hotel. So it's camping ahoy on the outskirts of Violet for her! Needless to say, she's been a bit broody.]

[When the camera comes on, it's dark and she's got a fire going, the flickering shadows lending the solemn look on her face a little gravitas. She notices this right off the bat and wrinkles her nose to dispel the whole 'there is obviously something wrong and I have been sitting here being angsty and weird for a week' look.]</sub>

Sup, guys.

It's all muggy out here and I don't feel like sleeping. I can't be the only one, so...

_{[She doesn't feel like rambling this time. There's too much on her mind. So she just cuts to the chase.]}

What was everybody doing right before they wound up here in this friggin' place?

_{[She somewhat conspicuously doesn't offer up her own answer, but adds, with a grin that's not too genuine but looks like it is (which is what counts, after all)--]}

Bonus points if it was something super embarrassing like being in the shower or something.

_{(she's in too much of a hurry to make the text private to any of the individuals she's searching for-- and it's not as if they're the only ones. They're just.... the most urgent. Most of her friends can take care of themselves, she knows, but... these two...)}


Harry, James WHERE ARE YOU???
please reply

and if your'e on the ground, get somewhere hihg up
DON'T TOUCH THIS STUFF

-Heather


<sub>[The typos? Not a result of a careless hand-- Heather's RUNNING while she texts that, and more than a little frantic. Spelling mistakes be damned!]

[With the weird, ringing rush of the advancing crystals roaring in her ears, getting herself to safety is both the first AND last thing on Heather's mind-- she wants to know what the hell is causing this, and how to STOP it, and whether or not some particular people are safe, but she can't do that from the ground unless she wants to wind up looking like a blue-raspberry popsicle person, which is not exactly Point 1 on her agenda. Arty was originally running with her (she didn't trust Cujo not to like... try and LICK it or something), but as the crystallization got thicker and thicker, Heather had wisely decided maybe her critters would be better off in their Pokeballs. Others have probably seen her dashing through the street, occasionally pausing to dispense with some helpful hollered advice or offer someone a hand out of a tight situation-- which..... uh. Which she's sort of in right now.]</sub>

F-- ... god damn it.

<sub>[Breathing heavily, Heather skids to a halt so fast that her boots left trails of dark rubber on the pavement. Maybe it would have been a better idea to go around the outskirts of the town rather than run right into the most heavily-hit edges, but she'd been hunting for a fire escape or-- SOMETHING to get up above the range above the rapidly-expanding mineral sea, and had ducked into a narrow little alley when she'd realized she'd gotten herself into a tight spot, with rivulets of the crystal trickling in on all sides of her.]

[Aaaaand what did she find in that ill-chosen escape route?]

[A dead end. And some trash cans. But mostly a dead end.]</sub>

... Well that's helpful.

_{[This was uttered in a hiss as she whipped around to look over her shoulder-- the blue gunk was already building up around the edges of the alley entrance and even starting to flow into it, blocking her way out. Well, Heather, this is what you get for charging into things without a plan... as usual...]}

Never again... god, is this Monday? Shit like this only ever happens on Mondays. I fucking hate Mondays.

_{[No Heather, it's Wednesday and you're talking to yourself again.]}

... Oh fuckfuckfuck--!

<sub>[Of course the crystal was starting to creep in after her. It wasn't enough to trap her in an alleyway, it had to come join the party. Muttering a steady stream of incredibly impolite words under her breath (and this time, she didn't care if Harry was somehow listening in, this was justified), Heather shoved the 'Gear in her hands into her back pocket and clambered up onto one of the trash cans, which wobbled dangerously-- ... until crystal started to creep up its base and helpfully fused it to the ground.]

[Great.]

[Panting, Heather looked around hastily. There had to be something she could use in here, had to, she'd been in more than one situation like this before... she'd gotten away from that awful advancing red mist in the Borley Haunted Mansion and that was much quicker than this! C'mon, c'mon..... AHA! A fire escape, jutting out from the side of one of the buildings she was trapped between. ...... Way too high up for her to jump to. .... Shit.]

[A thread of crystal made contact with the side of her boot with a hiss and she jerked it away with a barely-concealed yelp, hopping perilously to another one of the cans, arms thrown out on either side of her to keep balance.]

[Okay, there wasn't any TIME to ponder an escape route. She had to get to that fire escape and she had to get to it now. Heather gritted her teeth. Okay. It had been awhile since she'd done any of this. More than two months, actually. But-- ... screw that, it had to be kind of like riding a bike, right? She couldn't have lost her touch this soon.]

[The metal lid under her feet crackled as glassy diamond flowed over it and hardened.]</sub>

... Only one way to find out.

<sub>[Drawing in a quick breath, Heather leaped off the can and at the opposing brick wall, hoping to dear god that her boots had enough traction to pull this off.]

[WHUNK-THUD! Boot made contact, and then she shoved off-- YES!]



[Anyone who happened to be watching, either from the rooftops she was trying to get onto or somehow from the mouth of the alley, would be able to witness Heather literally scrambling up between two sheer (but narrowly placed) walls, shoving off of each and bouncing between them like a very gangly ping-pong ball. It wasn't too far a distance to the naked eye, but to someone actually trying to scale it, it was a different story-- her momentum had JUST about run out when she felt her fingers close around the rusty edge of the fire escape.]</sub>

YEAH! -- ... mph!

_{[Letting out a hoarse, barky laugh of triumph, Heather swung her legs and hauled herself onto the rickety contraption, chancing a glance behind her at the crystal that was pooling into the place she'd just been like molten lava. Cue a great big adrenaline-fueled grin.]}

HAH. You thought you had me, but NO. I am a wall-climbing CHAMPION.

You probably can't think, anyway. Because you're stupid. Blue is a STUPID color for lava to be. Stupid lava.

<sub>[And yes, she was giving it the finger. That really helps, Heather.]

[The giddiness faded after a second or two and then Heather hauled herself upright. Okay. Srs bsns time now. With a resounding clank-clank-clank, she made her way up the fire escape. As soon as her feet were on solid brick up there, she'd get her bearings. Could see a lot more from up there, anyway.]

[Time for some rooftop hopping. Anyone else up there?]</sub>