foolishwren: Lately it's been a whole lotta blues and absolutely no clues (Not gunna lie Steve....)
2012-08-13 07:19 pm

97. [Action for Goldenrod/Private Text]

[Locked to Ironhide, Minnie Mouse, Otacon, and Dale Cooper]


I don't know if it'll fix anything at this point, because I said some pretty horrendous things to all of you, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry.

I'll understand if you're still mad. None of you need to reply to this.





[Action for Goldenrod]


[It's probably not surprising that there's been radio silence from Heather on the 'Gear for awhile, considering... well, everything. Even if she hadn't had her 'Gear confiscated as part of the 'grounding', she hadn't exactly been in a chatty mood.]

[But even if she's bound to the city, she's not bound to the hotel room, and considering that she's sort of in the doghouse at the moment, she's not too interested in staying cooped up with the people who are rightfully upset with her.]

[So she can be found wandering the streets of Goldenrod City with Cujo padding along at her side, window-shopping or occasionally lounging on a bench-- minus the firepowers that blew the metaphorical Diglett-hole into a volcanic mountain a few weeks ago, but unfortunately still with the unattractive aftereffects of the whole ordeal: smoky black hair, patches of scorched-looking skin, and a permanent burnt-toast smell following her around.]
foolishwren: there is a train at midnight, and some meat themes throughout the movie, but the train itself is not filled with meat.  4/10 (TITLE ACCURACY: "Midnight Meat Train")
2011-10-20 02:38 am
Entry tags:

80. [Video/Text/Action for Ecruteak]

[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?

[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.]


... God dammit...

[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.]


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.

[Wow. From surprised, to resigned, to.... indignant?]

[The dazzling light fades after a second or two, and shows....]


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?

[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.]


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.]
foolishwren: as i was, you shall be (Default)
2011-06-20 03:24 pm
Entry tags:

70. [DREAM/DREAM/DREAM/DREAM]

[So while the rest of Johto alternately panics, cries, or rushes around trying to capture as many of the soulstealing insects as possible, there are dozens of souls floating around in that dream limbo, drifting in and out of each other's slumbering thoughts and visions. Whether it's nightmarish flashbacks or just those dreams where you're at school taking a really hard test, and then Dracula shows up, and then everybody's naked ... anything is possible when it comes to what people see in their sleep.]

[But what appears in the darkness in this particular spot in the spaceless, shifting mass of dreaming souls... is a door.]

[It's old, and covered with boards and bolts, rusted near-through in some places. The lock is broken-- mangled and half-melted and wrenched out of the keyhole. The only thing on it that doesn't look ancient is a scrap of torn notebook-paper that's taped up on it at roughly eye-level. It reads only a single phrase:]


Fear of blood tends to create fear for the flesh.


[More importantly, though... the door is ajar. Through the gap come the scents of rust and metal-- and something organic, fleshy-- and a low, deep hum of industrial machinery. It's not a door that anyone in their right mind would want to go through. ... But for anyone who may have stumbled this far into the dreams of their fellow lost souls, either in flight from some other nightmare or just pure, wandering curiosity... there's just no other place to go but through the door.]


... Well? Are you feeling lucky? )


~*~

[ooc: This is the IC post for what was announced over here! Even if you didn't comment there, feel free to participate! I'm still happy to whip up Silent Hill scenarios for folks!]
foolishwren: let's take ibuprofen together (hey.)
2011-06-14 07:07 pm

68. [Video/Action for Olivine City] BACKDATED to the tenth.

[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! )
foolishwren: it turns out no one appreciated me saying "You got it, boss!" in an old-timey henchman voice every time anybody told me to do something (got kicked out of the BDSM scene)
2011-04-01 05:11 pm

61. [Video/Action for Goldenrod City]


  
[This is what one might see if they are outside on April Fool's Day in the fine city of Goldenrod.]

[When Heather set out from Violet, she did it with a vengeance-- making it to her destination in record time purely by force of will. .... Well, okay. Snake and Solid the Onix helped out a little too. But REGARDLESS, it looks like she made it just in time for the stormclouds to come rolling in.]

[Johto, you been PUNK'D.]

[By the time the lobby doors to the big hotel she had left about two months before slide open and Heather staggers inside, she's thoroughly drenched and gasping. Not even sprinting through the deluge (which had blown in fast, as deluges often do-- the last quarter-mile to Goldenrod had been a mad dash to try and beat the roiling sky. She hadn't made it.]

[Spluttering and dripping everywhere, Heather stumbles into the lobby, letting the doors slide shut behind her to be drummed on incessantly by the big fat raindrops.]

[Cujo, who looks surprisingly happy for a Fire type about being wet, prances in alongside her and proceeds (much to the disdain of the bellboy who had started over to her with the intention of offering her a towel, only to quickly change his mind when he saw what was about to happen) to SHAKE. OFF. EVERYWHERE. And with a coat as shaggy as his? Fur could hold half its weight in water. Once he's finished, he happily goes gambolling off across the lobby to re-investigate the potted plants that he hasn't seen in a month or two. SUP PLANTS.]

[Heather, meanwhile, is doing some shake-drying of her own, sluicing water off of her hair vigorously. BRRRRRRRR. The bellboy is crying on the inside.]

  
UGH!

When they say April showers bring May flowers, but I didn't expect it to hit on the first, on the DOT.... Cooj, if you 'mark' those potted plants and get us thrown out into the rain, I will leave you in a box on someone's doorstep.

[Now giving the dripping coat that she'd been using as an (ineffective) umbrella a shake (in the bellboy's mind, Heather's threat level went from amber to red) or two, she grabbed up the strap to her bag and started to drag it towards the thankfully-carpeted sitting area, leaving a big watery trail the whole way (WHY COULDN'T HE HAVE GONE ON TO BE A SPORTS ANNOUNCER LIKE HIS MOTHER WANTED INSTEAD OF BEING A BELLBOY SOB).]

[Once there, Heather popped down into a squat on the carpet, whistling for Cujo while she rummaged in her pockets for the Pokeballs containing her companions.]


Boy, sure am glad I decided to take Alvaro with me... Sure hope these things are waterproof. [Fearing that shoving the orphaned Cubone into a BOX right off the bat would damage its fragile emotional state even MORE, Heather had opted to take him with her. Here's hoping that decision wouldn't bite her in the butt. At least Carousel had been box'd-- Heather had already witnessed the wonder that was a drenched Ponyta trying to re-ignite its mane and she wasn't sure her already-shot nerves could take the stress of watching a pony shed sparks everywhere.]

Good, nobody fell outta my pocket-- hey, Claudy, c'mon, get outta there, I gotta check on my stuff...

[Tossing the bag's flap open, she ushers the damp, ruffled-looking owl out of the bag. Claudy picks her way delicately onto the carpet and fluffs up to about twice her size before starting to preen unconcernedly. Heather watches the display with a roll of her eyes.]

Y'know, if you'd just go in the ball like a NORMAL Pokemon, that bag would've weighed like half as much. Probably would've been able to beat the rain if I hadn't had to lug YOU around, too... Man, my 'Gear better not be busted...

[She reached into the bag to fish around for the contraption in question-- ... and stops.]

.... Claudy, what the fuck, did you cough up a pellet the size of GOD in here or--








.... Oh.





.... What the--



[VIDEO]


[The camera turns on. Its feed is focused first on Claudy's head. She's grooming something, but all that can be seen for the moment is her feathers as they bob up and down.]


This.... this is an owl.


[The camera shifts away from the Noctowl and over to the bag, giving a nice view of the inside of Heather's bag (partially emptied so that her stuff could dry. Littering the bottom of the bag are crushed fragments of eggshell.]

Owls lay eggs.


[And then... then the camera zooms out a little, and moves back over to Claudy-- who can now be seen in full, contentedly preening a damp, squeaking little Eevee with ears about the same size as its body.]


That is not a baby owl.


[The camera turns around, onto a confused and slightly-disturbed-looking Heather. Her hair is still plastered wetly down around her face.]

I... I think I was just pranked by Mother Nature.




foolishwren: are waiting to GOOF OFF with you (SILLY GIRLS in YOUR AREA)
2011-01-09 01:49 am

51. Video

[When the feed blinks on, it's snowing.]

[More specifically, it's snowing outside-- the vantage point is high, aiming downwards from the fourth-story window of Heather's hotel room at the street corner below. The snowflakes are thick and fat and have been coming down for awhile.]

[Heather is nowhere to be seen-- looks like she's the one holding the camera. Her voice, however, is clearly recognizable, albeit it's hushed-- and there's a couple of other voices in the background, too..]


Hit record. Hit record, dammi--

Okay-- okay, shut up, Liquid, I'm filming.

HHEM.

Sup, Johto?

It's just a little past one-thirty in the morning. It's snowing, and we have made a discovery.

[Around this point, another voice cuts in-- one belonging to a familiar disapproving scientist.]

Heather, this really isn't something you should be broadcasting, think of those peop--


THAT DISCOVERY is that a certain street-corner is a one-ingredient recipe for destruction. Please observe.

[The camera zooms in on a corner of the sidewalk down below-- it looks innocuous enough, but hey, look at that rich, snooty-looking lady walking down the sidewalk! She's got a fashionable-looking PokeGear pinched between her shoulder and ear, and her arms are full of shopping bags. A live Furret appears to be wrapped around her neck.]

[When Heather speaks, her voice is full of barely-restrained laughter.]


She has.

No.

Idea.

That her life is about to be changed forever.

[The camera follows the woman's progress as she heads down the sidewalk-- and then, as she steps off the curb to cross the street at the corner... her feet go out from under her, her bags fly in the air, and she lands on her back on the ground, sliding gracefully across the street. The Furret, now puffed-up and horrified, trails behind her.]

[Meanwhile, there's a small explosion of muffled laughter from off-screen that continues for the entire period of time that the woman tries-- and continually fails-- to collect her bags and get up.]


AHAHAHH! Right on her ARSE!

Liquid, don't encourage her--


Ohoho my god, she just keeps falling down!

Heather, that's-- pfffhhah-- AHEM. Heather, that's NOT funny. It's-- pffff


Look-- wait-- I think she's gonna make it-- she's gonna-- ... no she's not.

[EVENTUALLY, the woman finally struggles upright and carries on her way huffily-- but the video goes onwards.]

[For those staying on Heather's channel, they will be treated to footage of many individuals-- random teenagers, businessmen, even a traveling Nurse Joy-- all coming face to face with the dreaded Icy Corner and losing the battle in various hilarious, slapstick ways.]

[And then, eventually ... A certain individual of note comes walking down the street. Who could it be? Well, Heather doesn't recognize him (considering the circumstances under which they met), although he'd certainly recognize her if he saw her...]




[The camera zooms in on him, shakily.]

Oh my god. Oh my god. It's a policeman.

Is he prepared.

HEATHER. Do you have NO respec--

--To meet the Corner of Doom?

You are a sadistic child.

Let's find out.



Will Jerry survive??? )


[ooc: Green is Otacon, Orange is Liquid, normal is Heather.]
foolishwren: I am losing my sense of humanity (*writing in my diary in glitter gelpen*)
2010-12-11 02:31 am

045. [Accidental video/Action for Goldenrod] (forward-dated to Saturday morning)

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

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


... MREEP

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

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

MREEP MREEP MREEP

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

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

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


--C'mon, Cooj!

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

Ghotta getd'guys...

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

[Oh yeah.]

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


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


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

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


.... Ugh, you know what?

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

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







[ooc: ACTION FOR THOSE IN GOLDENROD. Feel free to encounter Heather out in the snow if your character is hardcore enough to be trying to be out there on a day like this. Or feel free to try and stop her. EITHER OR.]
foolishwren: YA GIRL... (HEY DEMONS IT'S ME...)
2010-12-07 06:20 pm

044. [Video/Action for Goldenrod]

[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.
foolishwren: generally what daddy tells me is pretty reliable (Daddy told me never to talk to strangers)
2010-10-13 08:25 am

034. [Video]

[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.]
foolishwren: like what if you tried to sue obama and you just got a letter back saying "no" and he came to your house and did the worm (can you even sue the president)
2010-08-13 10:49 am

020. Video

[ooc: /DANCES ON IN TO DO AN EVENT POST.]




[Undead balloons. Hundreds of them. Filling the sky like alien invaders. Heather is standing outside the inn and just sort of pointing her 'Gear straight up at the sky, because the surreality of this scene needs to be documented and apparently she feels that in the event that anyone ISN'T seeing this in person, their lives will be improved by being as weirded out as she is.]

[Then the camera turns to show her thoroughly freaked-out face, SLOWLY zooming in. TENSO!!!!!!!]


[..... SUDDENLY HUGE RED EYES FILLING THE SCREEN AND A HORRIBLE OLD-WOMAN-SCREAMING NOISE ASKLGD;FG;LDFH'DSH'JGF' hello there Claudy.]






[ooc: /DANCES BACK OUT.]
foolishwren: I COMPLY, REVEALING THE FULL LENGTH DENIM TATTOOS ON BOTH LEGS. THE COP SCREAMS, DEFEATED. (THE COP GROWLS "TAKE OFF THOSE JEANS")
2010-07-05 03:57 pm

010. Text (image attached)

[The entry is dated as having been sent out the previous evening, roughly when she said she'd be reporting back to begin with.]

[Despite Heather's best efforts, her Pokegear got pretty wet in the adventure, so video and voice is out.]


[There's nothing in the transmission but a picture:
Heather, along with three others-- Kay, Luke, and Rhode-- all of them looking wet (three guesses as to where THEY were for the past few hours!), exhausted, and bedraggled, but nonetheless relieved, are among the milling crowd in Violet City's brightly-lit Pokemon Center, which as expected has been packed to the brim with relief efforts and people seeking shelter. Heather has a towel around her shoulders and is presumably holding up the Pokegear to snap the photo. She's wearing a weary grin and doing the classic thumbs-up gesture with her free hand.]

[Along with the photo, there's a caption:]

Mission Accomplished.
foolishwren: and he offered me cocaine in a dimly-lit JC Penny's (mothman is REAL)
2010-06-29 12:09 am

007. Video

[It's dark. But judging by the orange, flickering light lighting up Heather's face as she does the customary squint-at-the-screen-to-make-sure-it's-recording motions, she's got a campfire lit. Satisfied, she puts it down on her pack and adjusts it a little before taking a seat in front of it. She's already laid out the sleeping bag and everything.]

[Cujo the Growlithe and Arty the Sentret are both out of their Pokeballs, for once-- both are curled in a furry heap somewhere just barely in-view of the camera. Both are asleep .... unlike whatever owned the big red glowing eyes that were glimmering faintly in the dark somewhere behind Heather's back. She doesn't seem too concerned, though, as she's not paying much attention to them, for... for some reason. ... You'd think she'd be concerned.]
Yo.

Sorry to disappoint and all, but unfortunately, my little science experiment did not result in my death, so here I am to annoy you all a little more. Merry Christmas.

I'd also like to extend my thanks to Zack for helping me out with it. He fought valiantly in the great bee battle.[She flips the horns at the camera and gives a serious nod.]
You rule, bro.

Anyway. Was hopin' to catch one of those things, but by the time I got back to the scene of the crime-- [Why yes, the 'great bee battle' HAD mainly consisted of them running like sissies back to Cherrygrove. Is anyone surprised by this?] -- they'd all decided they had somewhere better to be. Figures. Ignorance always flees in the wake of science, am I right?

Anyway...[The customary pause in which she remembers what she'd originally decided to annoy people via pointless video transmissions for anyway. ... After a moment or so, she snaps her fingers before tugging her knees to her chest and propping her chin on them. Now she remembers. Camping in the woods at night was something she'd never done as a kid (she and her father hadn't really been the country type), but every kid knows there's a few traditional activities one must take part in. She doesn't have anything to make s'mores with, so that left...]
Oh yeah. So. Nighttime on the way to Violet City. Did I mention before that these woods are creepy as hell at night? Camping sucks. But... I'm bored, and even though I'm prooobably gonna regret this...

[She sort of wished she had a flashlight to hold under her face spookily, as was tradition, but aw heck.]

...Anybody got some good ghost stories?
foolishwren: are they gonna skip a number or just go for it or what (what happens after kidz bop 68??)
2010-06-21 11:35 pm

005. Text

I AM SO DONE WITH THIS.

A whole week is WAY too long for those working shifts. Seriously. BUT I made enough cash to stock up on some supplies, so I'm blowin' this joint. Anyone who wants to meet on the way or catch me before I go, I don't know, let me know over the Pokegear or something.

Oh, and so apparently there's a Beedrill swarm or something. I dunno what that is, but if it's a bee, it's a bug, and if it's a bug, I'll probably be fine.

... Well, probably.

On that subject, yo Rise?

You've probably already left, but hey, did the Pokemart stock bleach? And detergent?

... And buckets?

... Cuz I need one of each.

For... uh. For science.

:)
foolishwren: as i was, you shall be (UGHGHGHGH)
2010-06-09 11:14 pm

003. Video

[It's dark, and the sound of boots on gravel are all that can be heard at first. It's not an out-of-control run like the last transmission, though. After a couple of seconds, the screen turns to show Heather's face, fairly faint but slightly illuminated by the glow of the screen as she walks.]

So uh... yeah. Looks like I finally got to Cherrygrove. Better stylishly late than pathetically never, right?

[Though she looks far from stylish-- still covered in mud and scrapes from the Great Sentret Chase, and though it's sort of hard to tell with the crappy light the screen provides, she looks pretty darn tired too-- rubbing those eyes with a grimy fist. Still wearing an exhausted grin though.]

Seems like a pretty nice little place. More happenin' than that first one... though not by much ...

Anyway... those of you who've been here, are we allowed to crash at those Center places, or are there hotels...? Or what? ... Oh yeah, and if there's not a laundromat, I think I may in fact have myself a pretty epic freakout session because I'm a walking mud pie and it's damaging my calm.