WELLP.

This camping trip sure couldn't have gone any worse.

_{[The camera is just... literally slowly panning around to show the thick blanket of snow ALL AROUND what had once been a quite sunny little meadow overlooking the base of the Mortar mountain range.]}

We have literally been snowed in for like.

A week.

Look at this shit. Look at it. Did we ask for this? No.

_{[Heaving a sigh, Heather kicks some of it.]}

At least it's probably gonna melt quickly. Um, anyway, this is just an update for... whoever cares, I guess? _{[Mostly letting the people back home know that none of them had DIED.]} We're here, we're alive, we're probably gonna fuckin' BOOK IT from town to town from this point on so that we never have to camp again, and-- oh yeah.

My egg from Christmas finally hatched.

Scarlet loves him.

<sub>[It's about eight in the morning, the day after Halloween night. Juuuuust the right time for the bright early-morning sun to be shining in through everybody's windows. The Ecruteak Inn in particular is RIGHT in the perfect place for that light to be blaring in, which is why the first thing that shows on the screen (accompanied by the scrapes and jitters of somebody picking the 'Gear up) are the bright white bars of sunlight across the wooden inn-room floor.]

[The next thing it shows is ALSO covered in the bars of sunlight, but it's so BRIGHT that the glare actually maxes out the screen's capacity for a second or two before it adjusts and shows that the gleam is actually the sunlight reflecting in a million little points off of what seems to be a fairly impressive pile of NOT candy like one might expect there to be on somebody's floor after a successful night of trick-or-treating, but... shiny... things?]

[Yes. Shiny things. All kinds. Eyeglasses, doorknobs, strings of still-lit decorative Halloween lights, a genuine police badge, a set of handcuffs, a roll of foil tinsel, some well-polished pots and pans, small hand-held mirrors, coins of all shapes and sizes, more than a few pieces of (gulp) expensive-looking jewelry, a weathervane, several articles of clothing studded with those fake rhinestones, bottles of glitter (as one may imagine, the glitter is now EVERYWHERE), flashlights of all shapes and sizes (all of them are still turned on), a large (and opened) tube of "Sparkle Fun" toothpaste, what appears to be a small army of glossy Mr. Mime-shaped garden gnomes...]

[And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Somebody was productive last night.]

[The unmistakeable sound of a panting dog suddenly invades the speakers and a giant orange blur passes in front of the screen briefly, accompanied by the click-click-click of blunt claws on hardwood.Then the sound of licking, followed by a hoarse groan.]</sub>

Nnngh....

<sub>[Around this point, the view begins to zoom out. .... Erratically and jerkily, like the most poorly-filmed dramatic zoom-out in history, because instead of using the zoom button, the camera-holder is literally scooting backwards across the floor on his butt, all the way to his sleeping bag. Only then is the whole scene revealed.]

[Sprawled across the sparkly spoils of their night on the town are two very, VERY tired teens, now only partially-dressed as the thieving monkey and corvid they started the night out as. Kaito Kuroba is face-down on top of a small, tangled pile of beaded strings (you know, the rainbow-colored kind that hippies hang on their doors), with his monkey-ear headband slid down over the back of his head. And part two of the dastardly duo is flat on her back, half of her poncho rumpled up around her neck and her mask is halfway off. As is expected of someone like Heather, she bears the telltale marks of having apparently gotten into a physical FIGHT with someone at some point during the night, and somewhat LESS expected of someone like Heather, she also has what appears to be an infant Tyrogue clinging to one of her legs.]


[It's like The Hangover, ADD Teenager Halloween Edition.]

[The screen stops jittering once the filmer is safely settled on his sleeping bag once more.]

[Cujo is busy rousing his trainer by licking what's visible of her face while she mumbles protests and sort of feebly slaps him with one hand, while Kaito is dragging his face up off of his uncomfortable-looking pillow and squinting blearily in the bright morning light. Biz the Aipom scampers onto the screen and hops up on his trainer's shoulder to proudly present him one of the many wallets stolen during the night. Nobody particularly notices.]</sub>

Wh... huh...?

Cujo, go 'way ... where... whuhappen...

_{[At last, the mystery filmer finally speaks up, in that mild, quiet tone some of the network may be familiar with as coming from the scruffy, twitchy photographer that follows Heather and her father around and occasionally talks about serial killer owls.]}


Oh, you two are up.

Mr. Mason says you have to give all that stuff back today.

<sub>[The two teens stare at him blearily, and then down at their piles. ... And then at themselves. Kaito reaches up to run his fingers through his hair and produces a small shower of glitter. Heather lifts her leg in the air with a mildly horrified expression at the pink... thing on her leg. Then they look back at Henry.]


[The feed cuts.]





[BUT A FEW HOURS LATER, a much-more-cleaned-up Heather will be popping onto the feed again, hair still sticking in every direction (she'd had it gelled to look like a Murkrow's head feathers) and glitter still sparkling pretty much... everywhere. ... Including her teeth, when she grins sheepishly.]</sub>

Uh... hey, guys... so um... Kaito and I found a bunch of... stuff... that was apparently stolen... by kids in costumes. That totally weren't us.

... So if some weirdos grabbed something from you last night, it might... totally be here.

Yeah.

Uh.

... Happy Halloween.



[OOC: Action for Kaito and roomies, obviously! Otherwise, if your character was in Ecruteak, feel free to assume that the dastardly duo nicked something from them and will be sheepishly returning it at some point today.
Blue = Kaito, Orange = Heather, Brown = Henry.]

<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?