_{[Before the video shows anything, there's some shuffling sounds, and then the tell-tale noise of a cardboard package being ripped open. Then, Heather's voice, muffled at first, speaks up.]}


... Again?

<sub>[She sounds surprised. ... Unpleasantly so.]

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

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

... God dammit...

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

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

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

Might as well see who I got...

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


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

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

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

GENGKI--GEN GENGAR GAR GARRHH GURRH!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

( And then there was chaos. )


K;LJSDG;FHJDL;G


DFSGJLFGH;H

GSGGG


JHHJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ





_{[ooc: Responses will come either... mid-fight or after things have settled down. Ecruteak-goers, feel free to experience the wonder that is a teenage girl rolling around on the floor and trying to punch a ghost.]}

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


~*~


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

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

That wasn't the case here.

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

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

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

"ACKplth! Cujo!"

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

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

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

A lot could change in a year.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

( Read more under the cut! )

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

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

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


Heeeey Johto, what's crackin'?

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

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

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

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

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

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




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

<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?

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

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

[Everybody hates February.]

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

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

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

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

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

... Well, you are!

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

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

AAAWWHHHHUHUHUHUHUHHHHHHHHH....!!!

Oh, for fuck's sa--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



... oh motherf--</sub>



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

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

Im packed.




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

_{[Well, they say that the holiday spirit shows up in the most unusual of places...]}

( On the first day of Christmas, my supervisor gave to me... )

_{[And with that little mind-screw out of the way, the supervisor Psycho Bitchmonster of Death turns away and skulks malevolently off down the aisle.]}

... well, that was surreal, but...


<sub>[LIKE HELL SHE'S GONNA STICK AROUND HERE! Goldenrod City, look out. Heather is gonna go out and appreciate some SNOW, dammit. Shoving the rest of the boxes hastily into what little space was left on the shelf, Heather climbs down from the ladder and just-- ... DASHES.]

[Tugging a Pokeball out of her pocket, she lets Cujo out (because she'd more or less been expressly forbidden from having him out with her while she worked, because apparently it was bad marketing for Growlithes to try and eat the toothpaste display, but at the same time, ever since the Glitch Incident, she wasn't too keen on leaving him in her room while she worked...).]

[As usual, the Growlithe instantly bounds alongside her, tongue flapping out of his mouth happily as he frolics. OH BOY, WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO TODAY.]</sub>

C'mon, Cooj, let's head to that Underground place-- I can finish grabbing gifts for people and we can get some of those hot candy chestnut things that are probably bad for you but that I let you have anyway because I'm a terrible own-- .... HEY! W- ... where're you going?!

_{[In the middle of listening raptly to Heather's barely-started monologue, Cujo had just... suddenly turned tail in a flurry of creamy fur and gone TEARING off in the opposite direction, leaving Heather with no audience except for his rapidly-disappearing hind end.]}

...


H-HEY! Get-- get BACK here, you mutt--!!

<sub>[SHIT SHIT SHIT IF HE DESTROYED SOMETHING SHE PROBABLY WOULDN'T BE GETTING THE DAY OFF ANYMORE BECAUSE SHE'D BE IN HUGE TROUBLE SHIT FUCK CRAP.]

[Cursing, Heather THROWS herself after the dog, narrowly dodging several customers and more than a few coworkers carrying heavy displays. A tallish construction worker is forced to do a near-pirouette just to avoid clocking her on the head with one of the ladders he's carrying. Heather shouts apologetically over her shoulder as she passes.]</sub>

SORRY, SHAWN.

_{[Cujo, meanwhile, is on a MISSION. For what? Heather has no idea. But SOMETHING. Because she's fairly sure she has NEVER seen him run with this kind of determination before, EVER. She's only just barely staying on his trail-- he's running too fast for her to catch up with. Occasionally she gets glimpses of him up ahead, but JEEZ is it hard to struggle through this crow-- ... wait. Wait. Oh shit, he's-- ... is he going for that guy with the--....?]}

Cooj, NO!

<sub>[Too late, the man carrying a large crate marked 'DELICATE CONTENTS' turns. Too late, the expression of abject horror appears on his face. Too late, he opens his mouth to cry out.]

[And then eighty pounds or so of excited dog careens into him, knocking him, several displays, and the contents of the crate all over the place.]

[Heather comes skidding to a halt in front of the wreckage, face frozen in a mildly horrified grimace.]

[MISTLETOE.]

[MISTLETOE EVERYWHERE.]

[And in the middle of the enormous pile that spilled out of the crate is Cujo, rolling around on his back and making loud snorfle noises, ears splayed out on either side of his head like dumb-looking little wings. His tail is casting sprigs of the spiky-leafed little plant everywhere with each enthusiastic wag.]</sub>

... Cujo.

_{[The Growlithe rolls over and looks up at Heather happily, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Like this picture except with mistletoe and a Growlithe.]}

Cujo-- you are-- you friggin'--



WHAT IS THAT RACKET OVER THERE!?


...S-shit!

_{[Heather urgently reaches down to grab the dog with some difficulty around his pudgy middle and haul him out of the pile.]}

We gotta get outta h-- ACK! Dammit, STOP! Cujo, STOP, you idiot! Come ON!

<sub>[Attempting to shove him back down and stop him from CLIMBING her to try and eat her hair in his spastic joy, Heather turned and ran from the scene of the crime, with a mistletoe-covered Cujo in tow.]

[... And if she'd taken a moment to stop and assess the situation better, she might have noticed that in the struggle, a fairly sizeable sprig of mistletoe was stuck right on top of her head.]

[Oops.]





[ooc: Heather will be running around town doing various Heather things like shopping for gifts, sticking it to the man, and frightening small children. Aaaand unless someone points it out to her... she's probably not gonna realize she's got the kissing equivalent of a 'KICK ME' sign. Feel free to encounter her anywhere in the city! Cujo will also be happy to dispense ~*~DOGGY KISSES~*~ to anyone too close to any of that mistletoe.]

[HAVE FUN.]</sub>

<sub>[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.]</sub>


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

_{[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--

<sub>[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.]</sub>

[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!]}

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



[Text to Otacon and Liquid.]

I'm running ahead a bit

Gotta meet somebody.

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

peace out



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

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




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

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


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

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


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

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

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

I'm open to anything.





.... Except those things.

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

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


Go away.


_{[End feed.]}










[Text to Minnie-- PRIVATE.]
Hey Minnie

How you doing?

Are you somewhere safe now?

<sub>[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.]</sub>

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.


<sub>[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.]</sub>


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.

<sub>[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.]</sub>


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... <sub>[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.]</sub>

SCIZOR! Swords Dance!


<sub>[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?]</sub>

CUJO! FLAMETHROWER!

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

( Five minutes later... )

<sub>[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.]</sub>

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.]}

_{[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>[The camera comes on with grass obscuring half the screen-- it was quite literally just dumped on the ground along with most of the other contents of Heather's bag-- such as the Hoothoot that was currently rolling away across the ground in a generally dismayed manner.]

[Scuffling noises can be heard, along with some mostly-angry, but also slightly-frantic shouting from Heather.]</sub>

PUT THAT DOWN!

BAD DOG, DAMMIT! STAY! Stay there!

.... NO.

<sub>[More scuffling noises, and then Cujo merrily trots past the screen and in the direction of Heather's voice. In his mouth is a large stick!]

[Notable qualities of the stick would be its very large size (proof of the jaw-strength capacity of a Growlithe), interestingly-shaped leaves (it appeared to be off of a Mint Berry tree), the scuff-marks on its bark (courtesy of its carrier's teeth), and the fact that it was fucking on fire.]</sub>

Do NOT bring that thing over to me. Do NOT bring that thing over to me. Do NOT bring that AW HELL.

_{[Scraping noises from far off and a patter of leaves and twigs as they hit the ground. Yes, Heather is, once more, climbing a tree to get away from her Pokemon. And you thought they were past this point.]}