_{[The shaggy, retreating backside of a panting Growlithe trotting through the snow and a view of worn, upside-down brown boots tromping along hurriedly after him is the first thing to greet the screen. Accompanying the hurried crunch-squeak of footsteps through good fresh snow is Heather's aggravated voice.]}

COOJ!

Cujo!

Come on, it's COLD! Don't pull this. I will skin y-- COOJ!

<sub>[The 'Gear probably bumped against her leg or something and came on by accident-- cue SHAKYCAM dog chase! Up ahead, Cujo stops briefly and whirls gleefully in the snow to face his trainer. Instantly the cause of his flight is seen-- he's got one of her gloves in his mouth and clearly decided that now would be a great time to play Keepaway. He pauses briefly with his rump in the air and tail wagging slowly-- only to turn tail and go gallumphing off through the snow again as soon as Heather (and the camera) get close enough to try and make a grab.]

[Heather curses viciously under her breath and the chase begins again, complete with hollered threats.]

[... But eventually the angry yells of 'I AM GOING TO TURN YOU INTO A TIGER-SKIN RUG AND THEN HENRY WILL SLEEP ON YOU' trail off and are replaced by a brief, uncertain silence, followed by an alarmed-sounding tone.]</sub>

Wh-- Cooj-- ... No.

_{[The motion had stopped briefly, but it quickly picks up again as Heather breaks into a sprint.]}

Nononononononono COOJ! Don't!

<sub>[In the midst of all the shakiness, the 'Gear shifts just long enough to show what Heather is apparently so upset about-- and that is Cujo's creamy tail far ahead disappearing into a building-- a hulking, charred, broken building. The Burned Tower. Or what was left of it, anyway...]

[Out of breath, Heather pauses when she reaches the slight plateau the tower's foundations sit on, briefly wheeling to look back down the hill at the town below, then back at the dark entrance. Waffling between going in or just yelling for Cujo at the doorway.]</sub>

... God dammit... COOJ!

_{[She steps through the doorway and into the dark interior of the building. Now that the camera's not shaking all over the place, she's holding it up for the sake of illumination, turning slowly in place to take in the charred walls around her. There's shafts of light cutting through the broken areas up top, and snowflakes drift down in the breeze like ashes.]}

... God this place is creepy... My kingdom for a flashlight... Cuuuujoooo... c'mon, boy, where are you?

_{[The wood creaks underfoot as she steps forward. The place has that eerie silence that only ruined places have, and is it sorta freaking Heather out? You bet. Her voice takes on a singsong tone to distract herself from the smell of the burnt wood.]}

Cuuujoooooo... if you come out, I'll give you all my leftover beef jerrrkyyyy...

... Or one of Henry's shoooooes?

... C'mon, mutt, I can HEAR you panting somewhere over there, just c'mon ou--


<sub>[... And then there is an ominous groan immediately followed by an EXPLOSIVE crackling of wood and a startled holler. The visual is immediately replaced by darkness, and a THUD signals an abrupt meeting with the ground.]

[Accompanied by the pitter-patter of falling splinters and dusty, Heather sits up, coughing and holding up the 'Gear again.]</sub>

UGH... hell...

_{[A bright hole above her (which she apparently just CREATED) swivels into view as she aims the 'Gear upwards. A familiar orange canine head pops into view over the edge of the hole still with the stolen glove in his mouth.]}


... I am SO not getting you anything for Christmas.


_{[There's a hollow thumping noise as his tail whacks against the floor above and Cujo promptly drops the glove down the hole. It hits the screen and bounces off, hitting the floor. Heather reaches out and picks it up, giving it a shake.]}

Great. Thanks. That is super helpful. Really.

You're like Lassie.

What would I do without you-- oh crap.

_{[In the classic tradition of shaky-cam horror movies everywhere, there was a noise somewhere off-camera (a low, crackling rumble of sorts) and immediately the view whipped around-- showing a brief flash of something off in the darkness coming around a corner. Something lizardlike and fiery. Then the feed cuts.]}




[ooc: Video responses will take place an hour or so after the feed, from a slightly singed-looking Heather.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

( You have received a text from DAD! )


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

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

...

... Alessa?

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


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

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

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

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

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






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

_{[ooc: Backdated, the morning of the seventeenth.
Also, Heather... MAY NOT REPLY. XD; I understand everybody's doin' their own crazy thang for this plot, so I don't expect a whole lot of interaction tagging to happen (if it does, though, that's coo', that's coo'! But in the meantime, enjoy some tl;dr.]}




So there were a lot of things you could hate about fog.

For one thing, it was wet. That alone was pretty much worth hatred. Or at least dislike. Even normal fog, relatively benign stuff that it was, had this unfortunate quality. It wasn't enough that it just hovered around being wet all by itself, it had to go and get you all cold and clammy, too. It sort of evoked the same primal DO NOT WANT response as a small child who'd just wet themselves trying to crawl into your lap without permission.

Or at least, that's what it felt like to Heather.


Her boots squeaked against the soaked pavement as she tromped down the main street of the white-shrouded Violet City, hands fitfully rubbing her bare shoulders. There were days it paid to remain compulsively sleeveless, and days it didn't. This? Was one of those days.

Behind her, with a series of soft clicks of blunt claws on asphalt, Cujo the Growlithe padded along, surprisingly solemn for... well, for being himself. His rusty coat was the only thing in the near vicinity that stood out against the ghostly mist.

That was the other thing she hated about fog.

It blinded you.

Humans were visual animals and if there was one thing that was enough to put even a big burly Neanderthal on edge, it was not being able to see what was in front of you. That was why kids were instinctively scared of the dark, and why the species as a whole hid away under blankets and pillows at night where they'd be safe, only to rise again when the sun did, too. Basic instinct. People were just programmed that way.

Of course, that was just what she was telling herself. Because she'd rather not think that the reason she kept hearing little rustly noises that prickled the hairs on the back of her neck and staring over her shoulder paranoidly as she walked, bag bouncing against her hip, was anything other than 'It happens to everyone'. She knew better than to think that, but hey, the effort counted for something, right?

When the shiny windows and cheerful red roof of the Pokemon Center loomed up out of the fog, Heather stopped briefly, letting out a gusty sigh. This wasn't exactly where she wanted to be, but camping in the damp meant that her dinky little sleeping bag was no longer adequate for keeping out the cold, so it was time to mooch some free supplies. From the nurses who hated her guts and probably thought she was a menace to society.

If there's a benevolent higher power, and it's actually listening, please grant me the strength to get out of this with blankets, and without ALL-CAPS confrontations with the staff.

And with that silent prayer stated, Heather stepped towards the door--

WHINE WHINE WHIIIIIIIIIIIINE.


"Wh-- ... no, Cooj. Stay."


The Growlithe's amber eyes proceeded to grow disproportionately enormous and woobly.

Heather remained unmoved.


"If those nurses see you in there again, they're probably gonna euthanize you. Sta-- no. The paw thing doesn't work on me, remember? STAY."


Cujo dropped his paw to the ground once more, having been pawing at the air in the universal canine 'handshake' gesture, and whimpered, but stayed put.

Rolling her eyes, Heather adjusted the bag's strap on her shoulder.


"Dumb mutt..."


The doors slid open with a sleek, mechanical whirr, and Heather stepped inside.

( And then shit went down. ) <sub>_


[ooc: What's happening in real life is pretty much Heather going batshit insane in the middle of the Pokemon Center lobby and attacking the approaching concerned nurses with an IV pole. While obviously no one is SERIOUSLY injured, she does a fair amount of damage, and then will flee the scene. Tag if you want, but don't feel obliged! This is a big plot!]</sub>

<sub>[ooc: Forward-dated to the wee hours of the morning, around 3:00 or 4:00.]


[So she'd been having some problems with fire lately, and it had been rattling her nerves. That was normal, right? This was normal.]

[When the camera turned on, there was the usual firelight that indicated that Heather was, once again, sleeping out in some sheltered area of the woods on account of A) Being totally broke, and B) having a increasingly-strained relationship with those Center nurses. But this time, the fire's a fair distance away, leaving most of Heather's features in shadow.]

[Normally she was okay with fire in most situations. She could light matches without freaking out, and while campfires weren't exactly her favorite thing in the world, they were kind of necessary for, y'know, camping, and they didn't make her want to run screaming for the hills or anything. But tonight... tonight, for some reason, that fire sent vicious little shivers down her spine and she'd realized that she did not want to sit near it.]

[Even through the shadows, the glaze of sweat on her skin was visible, as was the fact that she was unusually pale. In her lap is Arty, who seems to be a little confused at being used as a squeeze-toy, but is holding abnormally still for once, whiskers twitching and black eyes glistening in the fire's light. She can tell there's something wrong.]</sub>


H-hey, um...

... That was a pretty crazy storm earlier, huh?

I can't be the only one still awake.


.... James? Uh-- ... man, what am I saying, you're probably not even awake. _{[Forced, awwwwkward laugh. Of course he wouldn't be awake, and anyway, he was going back to get his wife, he didn't have to hear about her fucked-up dreams. In fact, why would she even want to tell him? They were just dreams! So what if they were about...]}

.....

_{[Nightmares like that had to be normal after everything she'd been doing, right...?]}


.... SOME weather we've been having lately, huh, guys?

[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...