<sub>[The feed, as per usual when it comes to Heather's Gym Battles, opens from a low vantage point. It's become somewhat tradition for Heather to hand the 'Gear off to one of her able-handed Pokemon so that they can film while she's engaged in the battle.]

[Alessa the Absol is in front, bristling in anticipation of the battle, and Heather, looking more polished than usual but still rougher around the edges than is probably considered appropriate for a big event like this, stands beside her.]



[Above, the golden glass windows mark the gym they're standing in as Saffron.]

[After the 'establishing shot' of Heather and Alessa, the camera jostles around instead to get a more complete view of the arena, with Sabrina now visible on the other end. She's apparently in the middle of giving her usual pre-battle spiel; the nobility of the Psychic type, a brief and succinct history of the Saffron Gym and how it knocked the Dojo next-door well off the playing field...]

[But she cuts herself off with a very knowing look mere seconds before Heather interrupts her with a flat:]</sub>

Yeah, yeah.

Let's just get this over with.


_{[Sabrina nods obligingly (though not without a patronizing 'I knew you were going to do that' smile-- and her Espeon moves into the center of the field along with Alessa.]}


( Trainers take your positions! )


<sub>[The battle's over. There's a smattering of applause and stuff, a loud mechanical voice coming from the general area of the scoreboard and announcing the battle's victor, the usual. Cujo, pleased as punch with himself, has galloped back over to Heather for praise and attention.]

[... But Heather's clapped a hand to her temple, briefly gritting her teeth and shaking her head like it's full of flies. Cujo stops in his tracks and tilts his head in confusion, but it only lasts a second before Heather, ignoring the greetings of those who came to watch her battle, whips around to face the distant Sabrina again.]</sub>


Oh, is THAT how this is gonna be?

Real mature.

You think you can scare me with that psychic shit?

_{[Sabrina, who was still looking somewhat smug despite her loss (apparently at whatever little mental 'parting gift' she'd just sent to Heather), lifts a brow. With a shake of the head, she calls out, calmly:]}

You clearly came here with something to prove, Miss Mason.

_{[Lower jaw jutting out, Heather glares sourly at the Gym Leader.]}

Yeah. And I proved it.

Let's go, Cooj.

_{[She's already started to turn away when Sabrina speaks again.]}

I don't believe you have. And neither do you.



<sub>[... And then the camera jostles as the cameramon hastily switches it off, apparently anticipating something that may not go particularly well, since Heather has whirled around once more and is marching angrily across the arena towards Sabrina.]



[When the camera comes back on about ten minutes later, it's Heather's face. She still looks somewhat angry, but at least she's calm as she checks the footage.]</sub>

Man, screw that noise.

I got the badge, I'm outta here.

Sayonara, Saffron City.




[ooc: To those physically present in the Gym, Heather engaged in a rather heated conversation with Sabrina during the time that the 'Gear was off, but no punches were thrown or anything.]

<sub>[Wow.]

[That Vulpix on the screen sure looks pissed.]

[The ironic presence of the happy leftover Christmas lights behind it doesn't help.]

[A heavy sigh sounds from off-camera.]</sub>

Man.

Leave it to her to get one last dig in just when I thought it was over.

<sub>[But Heather apparently isn't gonna elaborate on who 'her' is... though anyone who witnessed Heather's fiery freakout over the summer and knew what it was about might have a decent guess.]

[The camera just shifts as she gets up-- it lingers briefly on what looks like a box filled with crumpled wrapping paper-- in the middle of it sit two large eggs.]</sub>

Hopefully the other living presents we got this year'll be friendlier.

_{[She turns the camera around at last and sort of regards it for a moment, chewing absent-mindedly on her lip. She's got a big wooly winter hat on, so either she just got in or she's about to go out. Probably the latter.]}

... Screw this year, man. Bring on the new one.

_{[HAPPY NEW YEAR ERRYBODY.]}



[ooc: ANYONE IN SAFFRON CITY IS FREE TO RUN INTO HEATHER, or assume she randomly stopped by wherever they are.]

<sub>[Well, THAT had been fun.]

[After over a week, lots of bad weather, a few waterlogged hugs and a whole lot of flying, Heather's finally back on Cianwood, with a nurse, a mysterious young woman, a bird-obsessionist, and a magician-thief in tow.]

[She's exhausted and wants nothing more to just faceplant on the bed and let her father play host to the new additions to the 'family' (and the one returning member) for awhile... but as usual, something's come up.]

[The feed comes on from above-- she's flopped on her back on one of the hotel room's beds, hair still curly and wet from the shower she spent at least forty-five minutes in after arriving back on the island. She'd had to use an unoccupied hotel room (with Arty guarding the door to make sure no unsuspecting guest walked in on her) to do it on account of the fact that she'd been accompanied by four equally tired and dirty people who ALSO needed showers.]

[She picks tiredly at one eye, the camera wobbling above her on account of being held up with just one hand.]</sub>

Sooo.

Yeah, I uh... was totally planning on visiting some people on the way home, but... yeah.

All that weather sort of sucked all the sociability out of everybody. Sorry, Cliff. Wish I'd made it.

_{[YEAH, she's spoiling the surprise, but hey, she can always drop in on him and Ironhide later, assuming no giant storms pop right the fuck out of nowhere like last week. Ugh.]}

But anyway, back safe and sound, nobody died, the world's still turning, chocolate and peanut butter are still an awesome combination, life goes on. Hope nobody got too battered during all that crazy apocalyptic weather.

<sub>[And around this point is where she'd usually turn the camera off (and maybe she intended to but is just so damn tired it slipped her mind) but the screen blurs as she rolls over, propping herself up on her elbows and resting the 'Gear against the bedspread next to her instead. Next to it are two things--]



[--a battered old medallion with red marks inscribed on it... and a piece of paper. The camera's gaze only lingers on it for a second or two, but quick readers might be able to make out the words Make her suffer written in loopy handwriting before the 'Gear moves again.]

[This time, it's aimed crookedly at the side of the bed, where the somber, doberman-like face of a Houndoom is watching the off-camera Heather in silence.]</sub>


....


Gonna have to come up with a different name for you.


_{[End feed.]}



[AUDIO // LOCKED TO COOPER]

_{[Later that night:]}

Hey, Coop.

You got a minute?

<sub>[It's quiet.]

[In more ways than one.]

[Actually, 'quiet' is a pretty good word to describe everything over the past few days, from Heather's perspective.]

[She's been quiet. After making an angry spectacle of herself in front of everyone, she hadn't been in much of a talkative mood. The trip down Route 38 had been spent largely in solemn silence, even after Crow had joined them mid-journey-- something that practically didn't seem possible.]

[The network's been quiet. Relatively, anyway. So many previously-prolific voices had vanished. Those who were left had understandably been left to pick up the pieces of everything that had come undone and, well, it's hard to blame them for being quiet-- those ones who had lost people, anyway. God knows Heather couldn't muster the fire to keep getting angrier as word of new disappearances had continued to flow in. The moment when she had seriously considered destroying a harmless Pokemon egg and its contents had been the moment she'd burnt herself out.]

[And, perhaps the only one that's sort of comforting right now, the city is quiet. The hustle and bustle of summer is both long ago and far in the future and as such, Olivine City in February is a great deal calmer than it had been the last time Heather had been here. That's sort of good, really. They've all needed to do a lot of thinking lately.]



[It's morning-- hardly even dawn yet.]

[At first, the camera isn't even SHOWING Heather. More a very close view of the floor, and the railing at the top of the staircase leading up from the lobby of the Olivine Inn. The cameraman is probably a Pokemon, but who knows which one it is... Godzilla has long since retired from his 'Gear-stealing shenanigans and so has Butch, now that he can WOOOOOO and QUAAAAAAG at his beloved Flapper in person.]

[But whichever one it is, it carries the camera with an air of quiet determination, and once it situates itself within view of its trainer, who seems to be sitting silently by a window in the deserted lobby, it sits itself down with a rustle and zooms in.]



[Eyes shut, she almost looks asleep, except for the fact that she's absent-mindedly stroking something with one finger-- something bristly-looking and pale yellow that seems to be in the process of contentedly nuzzling its way under her chin. ... Something with four bright blue eyes not dissimilar to the odd markings on that little egg she had been threatening to crush last week.]

[The video doesn't last long. It lingers on Heather and the new Pokemon for fifteen or twenty seconds, and then shuts off. Whoever had been filming, it seemed, had no agenda outside of showing the network that, no, Heather had not gone through with her impulsive plan. Fortunately.]


[The whole time, Heather just carries on obliviously.]

[Remembering hurts... but there's nothing anybody can do to change that.]

[Half to herself and half to the creature, who doesn't seem to be aware of how close it had come to maybe NOT EVER GETTING TO HATCH, she mumbles after a few seconds.]</sub>

... Stage five. I think.

That's acceptance, right?

<sub>[You know when you wake up and you feel like there's a leaden weight sitting on your chest, stopping you from moving? Most of the time when that happens, it's because of sleep paralysis. Somewhat less of the time, it's a close encounter of the third kind. ... This time, however, it's a very large Furret curled up neatly in the middle of Heather's chest, taking advantage of the fact that her trainer both produces heat and is stationary and comfortable, AND of the fact that there is currently a brief moment in which nobody is looking over in this direction to shoo her away.]

[... Except that Heather's not going to be stationary much longer.]

[The first thing that happens that disrupts the vacant, sleeping stupor of Heather's face is a wince and a scrunched nose, because fluffy Furret tails are not the best things to have brushing up against your nostrils when you're coming out of a deep sleep.]</sub>

Nhngngnh...

<sub>[Ffffh what was-- what. Oh, ow. Opening eyes that haven't seen light in a good seven days kind of hurts. And trying to talk through a throat that hasn't made a single noise kind of hurts too, which is why all that Heather manages at first is a sort of croak.]

[But that croak is enough to get SOMEBODY'S attention.]

[From the foot of the bed, Cujo snorts into wakefulness from where he's been faithfully sleeping on his trainer's ankles. With a deep wuff, he surges to his feet and joyfully clambers over the blanketed body, stepping on Arty and causing her to vacate her perch atop Heather's chest with an indignant hiss, until he's standing over her with a great big doggy smile and a paw on either side of her.]

[Heather squints up at him, scrunching up her face. On one hand, the sight of those floppy orange ears and big black nose is one for sore eyes, but on the other... oh god does she not want to see a dog right now after the kinds of dreams she'd been having...]

[Coughing and lifting her arms weakly, she tries to shove him away long enough for her to get her bearings.]</sub>

Cooj, gimme some spac-- acklPHTHG OFF.

_{[No force in this world or any other could stop Cujo from greeting his favorite human being's return to wakefulness with lots of licking. Startled into a slightly more awake state, Heather makes a still-sleepy noise of disgust and shoves feebly at the Growlithe, scooting away.]}

Dammit, mutt, I mean i--

<sub>[Turns out, trying to slip out of bed after not moving for a week? Hurts, too. WHOMP. Face, meet hotel room floor. And possibly part of Henry's sleeping bag.]




[A few minutes later, presumably after proving sufficiently to her father that she's not DEAD, the feed clicks on, revealing a very, very bedraggled Heather who looks like she went a week WITHOUT sleeping instead of spending the whole time unconscious.]</sub>

Mornin'.... what'd I miss?



_{[ooc: Because the nightmare threads will likely affect CR pretty strongly, I'll tag them as long as anybody wants/it takes them to be finished! I'm also fine with discussing their outcomes, though, if anyone needs a conclusion right away.]}

[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! )

_{[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>[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.]}

_{[When the feed flickers on, it's first displaying a somewhat unsteady view of Heather's back. Occasionally it swivels back and forth shakily-- showing a blurry view of what looked like a lot of cracked eggshells. There were a few towels lying crumpled on the floor, as well. Her voice, muffled and slightly blotted out by the constant clicking and rattling noises resulting from the Totodile claws that are grappling to keep hold on the camera.]}

--thought you weren't gonna make it before the first day've the New Year was over. Guess you like cuttin' it close to the wire, huh little guy?

<sub>[There's something small but fuzzy and ragged-looking draped over her shoulder, jostling slightly as she rubs it down with a towel.]

[It's white, mostly-- with spiky, damp hair and something indistinct sticking out of its head-- something black and sickle-like. A reaper-y blade.]</sub>

Guess it's appropriate, though.

_{[She sits back and the camera's view scurries forward a little bit, swiveling upwards insistently. Catching sight of it (and its carrier-- guess who) out of the corner of her eye, Heather turns with a quirked brow.]}

Wh-- Zilla, put that thing down, you're gonna break it.

_{[She uses one hand to better support the fuzzy white thing cradled against her shoulder and makes a sort of halfhearted grab for Godzilla and the 'Gear with the other-- he dances out of reach, but she does hit a button and the Pokedex function comes online.]}

ABSOL, the DISASTER POKEMON. It has the ability to predict disasters and impending danger. Its tendency to only appear before humans prior to disasters has earned it a reputation as an evil omen and often caused it to become a target, leading to the species becoming even more shy and reclusive.

... Predicting disasters, huh.

Guess I'm safe, then. _{Mine's already happened.}

I know just what I'm gonna call you.

_{[Curious about the newest addition to their little motley crew, Godzilla inches forward with the camera once again, zooming in on the little creature's face. As the view gets clearer, a single red eye-- the one not obscured by a limp mop of white fur-- drifts open.]}



How do you feel about 'Alessa'?





[ooc: TAGS WILL COME TOMORROW-- I just realized I'm running a fever and shit's starting to move that really shouldn't. SORRY ILU GUYS. I'll-- .. um, I'll be back later. 8(;]

Christmas Eve.

The night may not have had quite as special a significance in Johto as it did in other worlds, but between the (admittedly somewhat aggravating) mistletoe and the jolly little mobile trees lumbering around in the snow, the festive spirit caught. Even the locals seemed more eager to join in the festivities. It seemed Christmas spirit was just catching like that.

The arrival of the day of Christmas Eve brought activity left and right.

Impromptu snowball fights in the streets, last-minute gift-buying, Snover-chasing...

Goldenrod City was bustling with activity all day long and the previously-stated were just to name a few.

And Heather?

Well, actually, she'd been popping in and out of all of them.

Her friends in Goldenrod might have noticed her occasionally rearing her scruffy head in their general presence every so often throughout the day.

Popping into the Pokemon Center to give Rise an enthusiastic hug, a couple of decorative butterfly ornaments ("I know you like the girly stuff, sooo... they made me think of you!), and a written coupon promising a shopping trip in the department store (during which Heather was not allowed to complain TOO much)....

Knocking on Phoenix and Miles's door far too early in the morning to drag them outside with the intention of showing Miles how to build a snowman (under the assumption that if he didn't know much about building FORTS, he might need an emergency injection of childhood-- and Phoenix obviously did, too)...

Grabbing Snake during a smoking break to give him a heartfelt hug and a couple of really big cardboard boxes she found in the storage basement of the department store while restocking (there were a few sticks of gum thrown in, as well)...

And, naturally, doing everything in her power to start a crazy snowball fight with Kaito and his little band of troublemakers (did she get them matching team sweaters? Yeah, she totally did-- "YOU GUYS CAN BE THE SWEATER BANDITS.")

That was to name a few.

Anyone she knew in Goldenrod was liable to have received a visit from the teen-- and if they were a friend of hers, a gift as well.

But she never hung around for long. Flitting around from place to place, anyone expecting her to remain would have wound up a little bit disappointed. By nightfall, there didn't actually appear to be much of a sign of her at all, which was a little odd, considering that just fifteen minutes before, she'd been at the Snover ceremony, sneakily making off with some of the free apple cider (despite the fact that she hadn't caught a Snover, dohohohoho). But as soon as that had been accomplished, wham bam thank you ma'am, she was gone.

This was because Heather Mason was very good at becoming scarce when she didn't want to be found.


The sounds of crowds and festivities bled away into the night like muted trumpets as a single figure, in a short blue coat and a silly pom-pom hat tromped through the snow away from the center of the city, well-bandaged hands in her pockets. The cold was nipping at her face, but unlike the hasty, not-too-well-thought-out excursion she had taken two weeks before, she was dressed for the night, scarf around her neck and ears firmly covered.

It was surprising how silent the city got on these nippy winter nights, once you left the central streets.

It reminded her of home in that way.

When the brightly-colored lights strung all around the little plaza where the Snover ceremony was taking place faded around a corner, Heather picked up her pace and tossed the now-empty paper cider-cup-- still steaming-- into a nearby wastebin, re-stuffing her hands into her pockets hastily to escape the chill.

There were a few other people making their way down the cobblestone street, but not too many.

Feeling a slight bounce enter her step, Heather puffed out her cheeks as she walked and started to whistle a jaunty, old-timey tune-- which soon turned into a lowly-uttered song that nonetheless sounded loud against the night's quiet-- audible to anyone who might happened to have been near, although its singer was walking too swiftly to be deterred or caught up with.

"The Mason died on Monday...
We bricked him in the wall.
All his children grew and grew,
Theeeey never grew so tall befoooor-ooor-ooore..."

When she reached her destination-- she kicked snow off of her boots and shouldered open the glass door, heading inside and going up the stairwell.

There was nobody in the Department Store tonight except for the janitors cleaning up-- the whole place was empty, closing early. Which was why Heather had chosen to go. Puffing, she climbed the staircases-- all seven of them-- but kept the little tune going, even though she'd gotten a little out of breath.

"They may never grow so tall agaaaaa-aaa-aaaain..."

During the blizzard, the wind on every rooftop in the city had whistled and whipped, but several days later, the air was still and calm in the wake of the storm. Heather had to plant her back against the rooftop door to shove it open through the snow that had piled up there, but with a few strained noises, she was able to get through. Nudging a crate to prop the door open (last thing she wanted was to wind up locked out up here all night on Christmas Eve...), she crunched through the icy pile-up and towards the edge of the building, breath steaming.



The sight tugged a smile onto her face.

The crowd down in the little Snover ceremony had grown since she'd left it-- and if she listened closely, she could even hear the festive chatter far below.

Bunching her scarf up around her neck, she made her way along the edge of the roof.

"Mason was a mighty ma-an, a mighty man was he-eee,
All he said when I'm dead and go-oone,
Don't you weep for meee-eee-eeee...."

( Take me to the reaper man, to give back what was owed... )




<sub>[ooc: MERRY CHRISTMAS, ROUTE. I love you guys so much. I'm going to be posting a list of everything that Heather got her friends for Christmas shortly-- once I'm done writing this post. I just wanted to get it put up before Christmas Day was over! Sorry for the tl;dr!

FEEL FREE to action or video-tag here if you wanted your character to run into or talk to Heather on Christmas Eve Day! As usual, reading the redonk long prose is NOT NECESSARY. XD]</sub>

<sub>[Most of the time, that whole cliche where people awake from a nightmare by BOLTING upright in their beds, eyes wide, sweat-soaked, and gasping like a fish? Totally false. Real life is rarely that dramatic, and accordingly, neither is Heather's normal reaction to bad dreams. She has them so often that they're rarely worth the energy to make such a scene.]

[But tonight?]

[Screw cliches.]</sub>


AAHHhhhuhgh! Hhhh!

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

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

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

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

Holy hell...

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

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


What time is it...


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

[... Why was the date three days later than she last remembered?]</sub>


.... The friggin' frick...

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





[ooc: If your character is in the Goldenrod Hotel and is friends with Heather/she is aware of their being there, expect a violent knock on the door, an encounter with a boxer-and-tank-top-clad Heather who looks like she saw a ghost, and some confusion when she just looks you up and down, decides she's satisfied with the fact that you exist, and wanders off down the hallway in a daze to terrorize someone else.]</sub>

<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

_{[It's cold out.]}

[It's actually really cold out.]

[Without the wind, the day would be pleasant-- even a little toasty, if the sun hit your back just right.]

[But with the harsh gusts whipping the olive-green (... but getting oranger by the day) foliage over and around Azalea into a frenzy, it's about as easy to keep that heat as it would be to try and cause a tornado by running around in circles really fast. Needless to say, it's one of those autumn days that takes 'crisp' and turns it into 'Maybe today would be a good day to stay inside on the couch and watch cartoons.']

[Only a fool or somebody very unfortunate would be outdoors today without a coat.]



[Depending on how you looked at it, Heather Mason falls into both those categories.]



[Gravelly dirt crunches under boots as-- ... um... something that only sort-of resembles Heather-- but with far more dirt and filth and blue-black patches and dead leaves and congealed blood-- comes shambling through the trees and onto the turf of Azalea Town like some sort of shaggy forest creature. Both eyes are blackened, one refusing to open at all. Knees torn up and scabbed like the aftermath of the most epic five-year-old bicycle crash in history. Same with her palms. Split, chapped lips, cuts and scrapes aplenty, and to top it all off, her hair hardly looks blond anymore, though whether it's all the leaves stuck in it or the fact that her black roots have started to take over like weeds is pretty hard to say.]

[She's got one arm wrapped around herself-- and the other hand has its fingers twined deeply in the matted, grungy mane of the rust-colored, exhausted-looking animal that pads along beside her, keeping his side firmly pressed against her leg. Said animal's ears lift, along with his snout, as he snuffles excitedly at the air.]

[Smoke! Lots of smoke!]

[Swiping a hand under her nose, Heather shuffles to a halt and squints ahead at the quaint little buildings, all nestled together. ... Okay... they weren't shimmering or vanishing after a few minutes.... that meant they... they had to be real.]

... 'ther m'seeing things or we made it.

_{[Aaaand then she winces. Even in her own skull, her voice sounded froglike and croopy. Not good. Not a good sign at all. What I wouldn't give right now for a hot drink--]}


[There's a great, whistling rush and a gust of wind goes whipping past them, forcing Heather to buckle her knees and hunch over, rubbing her bare shoulders and clenching her teeth to stop them from exploding into spasms of chattering. It was cold enough all on its own, but in this state, she felt like it was blowing clean through her as though her body was tissue paper.]

[And sleeves. A hot drink and sleeves. Those would be really, really nice. Pants, too.]


[A sharp whine and the touch of a wet pink tongue on her hand brings her back to the present and she looks down at the beseeching brown eyes staring up at her, managing something resembling a smile, despite herself.]

C'mon, Cooj...


<sub>[Stifling a nasty cough with one hand, she grabs his mane again with the other and the two set off to totter on into the town. Although she'd never been there before, it was a sight for sore eyes after everything she'd been through the past two weeks.]





[ooc: Heather does not know there's a warrant out for her arrest yet on account of her 'Gear being absolutely borked. 8I; So she'll be pretty... out of it and confused if someone brings this up to her.]</sub>

[ooc: Slightly backdated, it's shortly after Heather finished her emotional rollercoaster convo civilized discussion with Liquid.]



_{[Feed cuts in on Heather's face, with the city streets in the background bobbing up and down as she walked. She looks... still exhausted, but better than before! That doom and gloom has sort of lifted.]}

Okay. So. Forgot to say anything about this, but-- back in town. Was gone for awhile and stuff. I miss anything? You guys didn't have too much fun without me, did you?

_{[There's a metallic swish as the door to the Pokemon Center slides open and she steps inside, despite her... professed antagonistic relationship with the resident nurses.]}

Anyway, on a more serious note, bunch of you've beaten that Gym guy lately...

... Anyone got tips?

... Otacon, I'm lookin' at you.

_{[Oh yeah, she saw that video post, even if she'd been a little too preoccupied to comment on it.]}

_{[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!]}

_{[SUNLIGHT! Sweet, blessed sunlight! Not a cloud to be seen! And what was once waist-deep water is... puddles! Yeah, fuckin' puddles! This is awesome! The sky is the first thing that the screen shows as Heather practically EXPLODES out the Pokemon Center's doors. She can't leave town quite yet-- there's still some stuff she needs to do and, well, frankly, her Pokemon haven't trained in more than a WEEK so they could stand a little more leveling up before she goes ANYWHERE, but... STILL! FREEDOM! NO MORE STUFFY NURSES! NO MORE GETTING YELLED AT FOR BUILDING FORTS/STARTING FIGHTS/USING EQUIPMENT THE WAY IT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE USED PUT THAT DOWN IMMEDIATELY!]}

YEAH!!

I am NEVER SETTING FOOT IN THAT BUILDING AGAIN.

EVER.

<sub>[Swiveling around, the camera shows Heather's face-- she's grinning like a fiend and looks a whole lot less miserable than the last time she actually made any transmissions. Headaches and fevers kind of blew and she'd spent most of the week curled up in a chair with blankets and tea, feeling too restless to enjoy the stay in the crowded Center but too sick to brave the flooding and find somewhere else to stay.]

[Barking can be heard-- Cujo is running in circles in the mud, accompanied by his compatriots, plus a small Poliwag, and minus a Magikarp. Heather finally gave in and put that thing in its ball.]</sub>

Heather Mason is back in action! Along with her troops-- _{[The camera shakes.]}. ... okay never mind they're running around too much for me to focus on them, but-- yeah um. .... _{[Back to her face.]}

YEAH!

So, uh-- Liquid! I'm comin' to meet you if you can get out of the Tower-- _{[She doesn't know about the GIANT PLANT OF DEATH yet.]}-- and I expect you to remember what we talked about and keep that promise. It's VERY IMPORTANT. _{[SERIOUS EXPRESSION.]}

Other than that, gonna go run around in the wilderness!

SEE YA.

<sub>[End transmission.]




[OOC: Feel free to action if your character is in Violet City or its surrounding wilderness, or wants to run into Heather outside Sprout Tower later.]</sub>

_{[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:]