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

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

Ttt-t-toto!


QUAAAA--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

... Zilla, what--

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

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

Get that thing outta my face.

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






[Private text to Harry Mason and Henry Townshend]

Hey

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


We've been here awhile now

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

HEY there, good sir and-or madam!

Would you like to buy an owl?




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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

( You have received a text from DAD! )


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

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

...

... Alessa?

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


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

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

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

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

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






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

_{[They say the only city with food better than Goldenrod is Olivine.]}

[But after those two (or was it three? The frantic digging of trenches and building of miniature barricades against the tides had made them rush past in a blur) days spent spitting out saltwater and getting dirty in the muddy spray of the 'line of fire', Heather was pretty sure that even the crappiest hot meal would taste like edible heaven.]

[The diner next to the Pokemon Center is small, crowded, and smells like wet Pokemon, but it's a nice respite from the last vestiges of the dying storm outside.]

[An UTTERLY filthy Cujo is lying under the table like an enormous slug, letting out groaning dog snores. Having done the bulk of Heather's digging himself (she couldn't exactly wield a decent shovel without popping the stitches on that arm), he's completely tuckered out after all that excitement. Now relatively dry and warm (though still muddy) and full of food that had been graciously provided by the diner's owner (on account of him being a "hardworking doggie, whozzagoodboy!"), Cujo was all too happy to just lie there and provide a nice footrest for his trainer's aching feet.]

[Heather, for her part, has her head down on the table when the feed comes on, although after an admonishing "Heather, you're getting mud on the tablecloth," from an off-screen Harry, she lifts it again with a groan.]

[As the camera turns, there's a dizzying spin of color, but a couple of glimpses of the fish and chips on the table-- and the sulking, muzzled-and-leashed Totodile sitting on one of the chairs. Then the focus settles on Heather's face. It's smudged as all hell and her hair has that wiry blown-away look that only someone who's been standing out in a stiff ocean wind can achieve.]

So yeah, uh...

For anyone who didn't take the Road Trip From Hell all the way up here to Olivine, in case you haven't heard it from somebody else yet, things are A-OK, looks like.

The weather's dying down and the ocean's receding.

... And, uh... stuff.

_{[Looking a little distracted for a second, she glances off-screen and mumbles.]}

Hey Dad, can I borrow one of those notebooks for a sec? ... Thanks.

_{[There's a brief rustle of paper as she takes something from the other side of the table an uncaps a pen with her teeth, tucking the cap up in the corner of her mouth. There's sounds of scribbling as she continues to talk, her eyes looking down at something below the screen.]}

So anyway... once the rain's all gone, Dad'n I might take off again... There's no way we're gettin' on that stupid bus, though. I think I prefer taking a hike to trying to cheat death every time something big enough to crash into comes into the windshield's view...

But yeah, uh, in the meantime, if any of you're still working out there, pack it up and come try this diner out, the french fries are awesome.

And I kinda wanna see how many people can pack into this place before it explodes.



_{[And with her usual cheeky smirk, she waves a bandaged hand gingerly at the camera and ends the feed there.]}

[Once she tucks the 'Gear back into her bag, she leans back in her seat, looking down at her notepad. The diner's so cheerfully noisy that probably only those directly nearby, whoever they may be, can hear what she mumbles to herself.]


So... guess Johto has gods, after all.

<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

_{(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>

_{[It's brief. Heather turns the camera on directed at her face-- she's holding up her broken-ass umbrella to shield herself from the drizzle. James and Harry cannot be seen, but their voices are in the background.]}

Finally got back.

As usual, the heat breaks as soon as we get somewhere with air conditioning... and it starts to rain as soon as I walk into Violet. S'deja vu all over again.

We'd better not get another flood.

Anyway, m'back. Sorry for taking forever. _{[If she wasn't so tired and miserable, she'd have made some kind of quip about James being the one to slow them all down, but she doesn't have the oomph.]}

Gonna crash in the inn, I think.

Be nice to see y'all again.

_{[There's more than a few people she meant to address specifically, but upon thinking it over, she decides napping is a better choice for the moment. So the camera flicks off.]}


Private Text to Otacon:

I'm back. Does Liquid know Snake is here yet? Is everyone okay?




_{[ooc: Just figured I'd get one last post in before I left. See you guys, I'll be in contact!]}

<sub>[True to her word to several by this point, Heather's almost back to Violet. Her end of the line has been oddly silent for the past few days except for a few snarky remarks or other brief conversations, and that's largely due to her... well... unexpected traveling situation. But she's dealing! It's okay. She's got this. Really.]

[.... Or not? When the camera comes on, it's Cloverfield-level shaky, with the view swiveling around drastically and showing flashes of bare ground and campfire-- and something green off to the edge that was probably James and a sort of interested-looking Harry Mason standing up by the fire and peering over in the direction of whatever was shaking the camera around. Somewhere behind the log he'd been sitting on, if the viewer was paying very close attention in the BRIEF INSTANT that particular spot was visible, they could see a very vengeful set of Furret eyes glaring over the log at Harry. But that context is a tale for another time.]

[For now, the camera finally turns to focus on Heather's face, and she looks wide-eyed and excited. The past few days've been hard on her, but the situation at hand is temporarily drowning out any and all weird emotional problems she might or might not be having.]</sub>

RISE! RISE IF YOU'RE THERE, THE EGG'S HATCHING!

<sub>[No punctuation and all.]

[The camera turns down to the large cream-speckled egg that Heather's last transmission had asked about-- its surface is shinier than before and reflects the light of the campfire. But more importantly, it's starting to wiggle around and crack. Heather wasn't NEARLY this excited about her other eggs, but this one is a ~*~mystery~*~ and it's BIG so she's sort of kind of wiggin' out.]</sub>