Heather Mason
02 February 2011 @ 09:00 pm
[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?]


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...

[... 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?]





[THE OWLBAG IS PLEASED.]
 
 
Yo, this is where I'm at: Her hotel room.
I'm feeling: restless
 
 
Heather Mason
07 December 2010 @ 06:20 pm
[Like so many transmissions today, this one opens up with the camera aimed straight up at the velvety-gray sky, with dry little flakes of snow drifting down. It also cuts in about halfway through a sentence--]

--ime to get some winter gear... Hey, network. Please enjoy five minutes of my dog being a spaz.

[It swivels down to focus on the plaza-- looks like Heather's walking back to the hotel from work and is finally getting a chance to enjoy the flurries (though she's c-c-c-cold. The whole sleeveless routine won't work for too much longer...). The flagstones are dusted with snow, and-- ... as promised, Cujo is being a spaz.]

[The orange-colored pup is lying on his side in the snow and just sort of... wriggling in place, snorfling around in the MAGICAL WHITE STUFF THAT IS FALLING FROM THE SKY. After a few seconds or two he suddenly surges upright, butt in the air and ears standing straight up. He stares, glassy-eyed, at the camera for a few seconds, and then lets out an explosive snort and goes tearing off in a random direction.]

['Zilla the toddler Totodile appears on the screen then, slipping and sliding after him through the snow at a laughably slower pace-- changing direction a few times as Cujo goes rocketing past in the opposite direction. Eventually he gives up and comes waddling back to Heather with a frustrated gargle. She laughs.]


Maybe when you get longer legs, buddy-- hey, let's see how Arty likes the snow. Ya like the snow, Arty?

[The camera turns and shows... well, this.]

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.....



.... I think she likes it.
 
 
Yo, this is where I'm at: Goldenrod City
I'm feeling: chipper
 
 
Heather Mason
[Most of the time, that whole cliche where people awake from a nightmare by BOLTING upright in their beds, eyes wide, sweat-soaked, and gasping like a fish? Totally false. Real life is rarely that dramatic, and accordingly, neither is Heather's normal reaction to bad dreams. She has them so often that they're rarely worth the energy to make such a scene.]

[But tonight?]

[Screw cliches.]



AAHHhhhuhgh! Hhhh!

[She sits upright in a tangle of blankets so fast that the PokeGear on her chest goes flying across the room, clattering to the floor a short distance away from her bed. The video feed button is hit in the process and anyone watching will be treated to a sideways worm's eye view of the bed. Heather's eyes are wide and glossy, her skin and clothing soaked through with sweat. Her chest is heaving like her body is convinced that she's DYING, and to be fair, it probably IS. Her hair is all over the place and goosebumps are standing out on her bare arms like pinheads-- those bandages? Yeah, they got all sweaty and just... unraveled and bunched down around her wrists.]

[The moonlight-- or-- er, the countless Goldenrod streetlights outside, anyway-- reflecting off of her skin just added to the impression that she'd been rolling around in wet grass or something. She was going to be SO cold once the adrenaline wore off and the chill of the cold sweat set in.]

[What... what was... oh, GOD, what the FUCK was...?]

[She looks around the dark hotel room wildly, wheezing, and smears her hair out of her face after a moment and just presses a hand to her temple, shoulders slumping.]


Holy hell...

[Pulling in a deep, congested-sounding breath, she looks up again, still pale as a sheet but at least calming down. Dreams. It had all been dreams. ... Well, DUH, it had been dreams-- she had been chased by the friggin' KOOL-AID MAN. But-- even the most vivid of dreams in her normal roster of Traumatizing Nighttime Visions (tm) (and her normal nightmares? Oh hell yes, you BET they were vivid) couldn't even come close to what she had just experienced. It had all felt so... so real.]

[She notices the PokeGear on the floor and just sort of... leans over and half-slides off the bed, reaching out for it with one arm and just hanging off of the edge of the bed at the waist like a gangly ragdoll.]



What time is it...


[... Midnight. Just midnight. Okay... Midnight. Ugh. Well, there was no way she was gonna get to sleep after THAT, so... she'll just turn the lights on, watch some TV, and-- .... wait.]

[... Why was the date three days later than she last remembered?]



.... The friggin' frick...

[She drops the 'Gear again, and there's some thumping and rustling noises as she unentangles herself from the blankets and drags herself out of bed. Her bare feet walk past the screen and then the door slams. The feed times out eventually.]





[ooc: If your character is in the Goldenrod Hotel and is friends with Heather/she is aware of their being there, expect a violent knock on the door, an encounter with a boxer-and-tank-top-clad Heather who looks like she saw a ghost, and some confusion when she just looks you up and down, decides she's satisfied with the fact that you exist, and wanders off down the hallway in a daze to terrorize someone else.]
 
 
Yo, this is where I'm at: Goldenrod City Hotel
I'm feeling: distressed
 
 
Heather Mason
24 November 2010 @ 03:10 am
[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.]


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.

[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.]



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!]
 
 
I'm feeling: sore
Yo, this is where I'm at: Goldenrod City Pokemon Center
 
 
Heather Mason
18 November 2010 @ 07:46 pm
[There's a brief snapshot view of Heather's hotel room as the camera swings around-- the bed doesn't look slept in (although it is rumpled), her possessions are haphazardly on the floor by the wall-- as though they'd been tossed there and then nudged distractedly out of the way instead of picked up, and for once Cujo, who is lying on his belly over by the bathroom door, doesn't look like his usual derpily happy self. His cream-dotted doggy brows are peaked and his snout is on the floor between his paws. He's looking over in the direction of the camera worriedly.]

[That's all the viewer gets, though, because the camera turns on Heather as soon as she's got a good grip on the 'Gear.]

[There's rings under her eyes and she's just in a tank-top-- fairly obvious she hasn't slept yet. Her stare has a kind of angry energy to it despite her obvious exhaustion, though, and her voice is hoarse and flat in tone, like she spent the whole night yelling. Which she probably had.]



If there's someone in Goldenrod who wants to do a practice battle, hit me up. I'll be on that town green by that Slowbroco business building.

Don't come if you're not packing some power. I'm not going to play nice and I'd rather blow off steam on something or someone who can take it.

[And then she throws her bag's strap across her shoulder and hits disconnect.]




[Audio, to Liquid.]

Liquid.

If you're there and aren't busy with something, can-- ... can we just-- fight?

I... I need to blow off some steam.

If not, that's okay, I'll figure something out.

....

I guess.

Yeah.

click
 
 
I'm feeling: angry
Yo, this is where I'm at: Goldenrod City
 
 
Heather Mason
04 November 2010 @ 03:49 pm
[You know how most workplaces have those ridiculous, seemingly-arbitrary rules concerning things like cell phones and mp3 players that make sense in theory but really don't in practice? Well... turns out Johto's no different.]

[The feed flickers on and off a few times so anyone who's looking at Heather's channel is being treated to a sort of trippy view of the ceiling of one of the many floors in the Goldenrod Department Store, jiggling around as though the 'Gear is the subject of a tug-of-war.]

[And uh... judging by the voices that are conversing in heated tones somewhere off-screen, it is.]



I'm telling you for the last time, Temp! NOOOOO PokeGear use during your shift!


It's my break! I'm not even DOING anything right now!


DON'T you backsass me, young lady! I know your type! Traveling trainers who want to make a quick buck-- you're all the SAME!


Wh-- jeez, calm down! I'm not like-- trying to question your authority or something!! Take a chill pill!


YOU ARE OUT OF LINE!


The guys on the fifth floor said they could use their 'Gears during break!


WELL. This isn't the fifth floor, IS it?!

[There's a pause, and then a low, almost inaudible mutter on Heather's part of:]

Oppressive tyrant....

[... But apparently it wasn't inaudible enough.]

BACK IN MY DAY WE HAD TO TIE OUR MESSAGES TO PIDGEYS AND HOPE TO DEAR ARCEUS THAT THEY DIDN'T GET EATEN BY ARBOKS ON THE WAY THERE!!


E-eep!


I HAD TO WALK TWENTY MILES TO WORK EVERY DAY IN BLINDING SNOWSTO--

[The feed clicks off.]





[A very resentful-looking Heather slumped in her seat at the cash register, smoldering darkly and glaring at the file cabinet in the staff-room where her PokeGear had been dumped, locked, and left. The words 'AND YOU CAN HAVE IT AT THE END OF THE DAY IF YOU THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE!' were still ringing in her ears.]

[Jutting her chin out resentfully, she planted it on one palm with her scrawny elbow on the counter, plucking uncomfortably at the fairly-silly-looking Department Store clerk's uniform she had to wear. Yes, there was even a cutesy little hat and a popped collar.]



God, it's like high school all over again....






[ooc: Video replies will be answered later in the day when Heather gets off of work and has her PokeGear returned to her!]
 
 
I'm feeling: grumpy
Yo, this is where I'm at: Goldenrod Department Store, 4th floor
 
 
Heather Mason
22 October 2010 @ 08:58 pm
[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?
 
 
Yo, this is where I'm at: En route to Goldenrod City
I'm feeling: chipper
 
 
Heather Mason
[ooc: Backdated to earlier on the 14th.]


[When the PokeGear comes on, all it shows at first is a dizzying view of the dirt and pebble as Heather walks, fiddling with the grip on the device until she can hold it up to show the slightly-pudgy Growlithe trotting alongside her, pink tongue lolling out.]

Okay, Cooj.

As of twenty minutes from now, we are officially free.

No more warrant, no more hiding out, no more nothing. Our slates will be wiped clean. What do you say to that?


WOOF!


Truer words never spoken.


[There, the motion suddenly stopped and the camera swiveled around and upwards to show that they had arrived at their destination. Cue worm's-eye view of the front facade of the Azalea Town Gym, crowned with a nice blue sky. Heather couldn't have asked for a better morning for her warrant to expire.]

[... Except that it apparently wasn't expired yet? ... Wait, then why was she in town? ..... Oh no. Heather. No.]



All right, ladies and gents, it's time for me to blow this popsicle stand and get outta here. But first, there's oooone last thing I gotta do.

[The camera turned back down to Cujo, whose tail was waggling furiously.]

All right, Cooj. What's our strategy?


WOOF!


That's right, be badass mofos. Are we gonna pull that strategy off?

WUFF WOOF!

Damn right we're gonna pull it off. The rest of the guys might not be with us right now, but you and me can handle it. Let's do this!

Now say hi to all the beautiful men and women out here who might be watching this.

[Cujo responded with another resounding WOOF, punctuating it with a little hop of the front legs and flop of his overgrown mane.]

That's my good boy.

Now let's kick some ass.

[The doors opened.]





[Bugsy was a pretty chill dude. Which wasn't too surprising, because... c'mon. Bugs. There was something just sort of relaxing about the concept of a boy and his dog giant killer praying mantis relaxing together on a nice bright morning with sunlight shining in through the big Gym windows.]

[Too bad he wouldn't be able to relax for long.]

[The camera jiggled insistently from where Heather was keeping it propped on her shoulder. She threw out one pointing arm in a cliche I CHALLENGE YOU pose. Because... let's be honest. You all know you've wanted to do that at least once in your life.]



Hey! Hey you!


[Bugsy looked up from his book and sized her up with a slightly exasperated look on his face. She couldn't much blame him. It was probably near his lunch break. He looked her up and down, then paused, one brow arching.]

... Aren't you one of the people the police put a warning out about a couple weeks ago?


[Heather paused. UM.]

Uhhh.... for the sake of this conversation, no.


[... Bugsy glanced at the big clock on the wall-- one of those stadium ones that every Gym had.]

... Uh. [Awkward smile.] ... You do know those warrants expire in about twenty minutes, right?

Yeah, but... where's the fun in waiting?

[... Bugsy considered this, then smiled in a half-amused, half-"... really?" fashion as he got up, brushing grass off the seat of his shorts.]

You want to battle me, then?

[Heather grinned a toothy grin that wasn't visible on-camera, but you could hear it plain and clear in her voice.]

Well I'm sure not here as a tourist!

WOOF!


... And neither is he. [She jerked the camera at Cujo.]

All right, but... don't blame me if someone with a police badge walks in here during the battle...


Heh, like that'd happen... [What reason would the police have to come into a Gym, pshaw.]

[Bugsy reached to his bag and withdrew a Pokeball, weighing it briefly in his hand before hurling it high in the air.]

SCIZOR! Swords Dance!


[Sunlight from the windows glinted off of the chitinous red exoskeleton of the giant mantis as it emerged from the Pokeball, wings buzzing with the hum equivalent of a hundred bees' nests. Blades flashing, it dove.]

[But guess who did her research this time around?]


CUJO! FLAMETHROWER!

That CRUSHING, CRASHING, ATOM-SMASHING, WHITE-HOT thing's INVINCIBLE! Oh oh owh! )


~*~

Five minutes later... )
 
 
 
I'm feeling: energetic
Yo, this is where I'm at: Azalea Town Gym
 
 
Heather Mason
13 October 2010 @ 08:25 am
[It's a little before sun-up-- that weird hour of the morning where the sky is still dark but just starting to brighten in a thin, pale line at the horizon. Of course, where Heather was, that horizon was hidden by the trees, so it's... still mostly dark.]

[She's sitting up in her sleeping bag with a couple of blankets around her shoulders, next to the camp's fire, which had mostly burnt down to ash speckled with a few tiny, stubborn embers. They stood out against the general grayness of the clearing 'Camp Otacon' resided in. Said grayness was only emphasized by the layers of frost coating the earth and grass. It was well into October now, so... unsurprisingly, the weather had been getting colder.]

[Heather was not sure she liked this, though thankfully she's in possession of a living heater in the form of a now-distinctly-potbellied dog (Camp Otacon had been treating him well. Especially because though she'd never admit to being such a softie, she'd been giving him more treats than normal out of pure guilt over the whole 'I thought you were a double-head and also I was kind of a jerk to you in general anyway' thing), who was curled behind her and serving as a backrest.]


So hey, guys. I have a question.

[Her words were accompanied by puffs of steam from her breath. It's c-c-cold this morning without the sunlight.]

What happens when our warrants expire?

[A couple of people had asked her this before, but she'd never had too specific an answer to give them.]

I heard we're like... basically off with a smack on the wrist and not much else, but... [She pauses, sucking her lips inward a little and fiddling with that stubborn eye-bandage. She's gotta be able to get rid of that thing soon, right?] ... That seems pretty lenient for a bunch of "dangerous fugitives". [She's quoting Officer Jenny directly from that announcement, and there's suspicion in her tone. SCREW THE COPS, THEY'RE NEVER HONEST, RIGHT? THIS HAS TO BE A TRICK.]
 
 
Yo, this is where I'm at: Camp Otacon
I'm feeling: uncomfortable
 
 
Heather Mason
05 October 2010 @ 03:49 am
[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.]
 
 
I'm feeling: bored
Yo, this is where I'm at: An undisclosed location near Azalea