<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>[A short while after the singing wild Pokemon and egg presents had died down, a rather unfortunate discovery was made upon dialing a number she'd been meaning to dial ever since Claudia Wolf and Kaito Kuroba had disappeared from Johto.]

[Already on the road, the weather's mild enough (even with the wind picking up) that Heather decided that was pretty much a good time to pocket her Valentine's Day present and just head off for a walk. Because lord knows, she needs one.]

[It's not the first time Johto has given everyone the gift of a precious little egg, but it is the first time that Heather's found herself resenting it.]

[The video feed pops on, focused in on a tiny, pale yellow little egg hardly bigger than a chicken's, nestled in the palm of Heather's hand as dry grass goes past underfoot.]</sub>



It would be so easy to just... crush it.

<sub>[There was a bit of radio silence on Heather's part for awhile there... but here comes a video post! Because... yeah, uh. Probably a good idea to show everybody she's not DEAD.]

[The girl on the screen looks exhausted. The baggy shadows under her eyes never really seem to go away entirely, but they'd at least gone tame for awhile. Now they're back full force. It seems excessive, maybe, getting so broken-up for days over losing one person, even if that person was her best friend. ... But as she'd found out, he hadn't been the only one she'd lost that day. And she's not totally sure how she feels about it. ... About them both. Just that she's tired. BUT AT LEAST SHE'S NOT PUNCHING ANYTHING, RIGHT?]

[She seems to be leaning on (or... INTO. It's very... voluminous) a sort of... soft white MASS of some sort-- whose identity is revealed when a sharp hooked beak (that is... mostly obscured by fluffy white down) descends into the frame and starts to groom Heather's rat's-nest hair with a quiet twitter. Sunny makes the best pillow.]

[Heather doesn't waste any time before cutting right to the chase, speaking with a bored drawl (that's partially to justify how croaky her voice is-- SCREW EVERYTHING she's a bored teenager she doesn't need to sound nice!).]</sub>

Right, so.

Gonna beat Morty soon and then get outta this town. Nothin' left to do here, really.

So, uh.

We can either head over to Cianwood and see about getting Fly. ... Not that I have anything big enough to fly on, but. Y'know. For the heck of it.

OR we could head over to Mahogany. Which is... well, closer I guess.

So... I dunno. Thoughts? Anyone? Bueller?

[ACTION]

<sub>[You know what makes a good alarm clock on Christmas morning? ... Besides small children? ... DOGS.]

[There was once a time when a Christmas with the Masons involved Heather using her father's bed as a trampoline. But by this point, she's more interested in sleeping in. You know, in general. But that's hard to do with Pokemon around.]</sub>

Ugh, Cooj-- have you been eating the old socks at the bottom of my bag again...?

_{[Shoving the Growlithe's blunt muzzle away from her face, she sits up in bed. Most of the other Pokemon (those that are out of their balls) are still asleep, but THAT DOESN'T STOP CUJO OF COURSE. He drops something slobbery in her lap and then shuffles backwards on her bed, rumpling up the blankets in the process. She flaps a hand at him, rubbing her eyes.]}

C'mon, boy, you're acting like it's Christmas or someth-- ....

_[OH.]

...

_{[She looks down at him briefly.]}

... Okay, go wake up everybody else.

_{[Half the time what she tells him to do seems to go in one shaggy ear and out the other, but she doesn't need to tell him to do that twice. As he leaps off the bed in an explosion of happy panting, she finally turns her attention to the object he dropped in her lap.]}

... My flashlight?


[VIDEO]

<sub>[Has anyone ever wanted to see live footage of somebody trying to strap one of those dog backpacks to a Growlithe that won't hold still?]

[Well, anyone checking out the network around lunchtime on Christmas Day will get to watch the Adventures of a Hapless Trainer and Her Hyperactive Dog for awhile as Heather tries unsuccessfully to get one of those things on him for about twenty minutes, outside in the snow.]

[After lots of yelling, falling down, and a brief period of getting dragged around (he's big enough to do that by this point...) she loses her grip and he eventually runs off with the damn thing half-fastened. Probably gonna lose it in a snowbank somewhere. Picking herself up, with a grumble, she takes back the PokeGear from whoever had been filming this charming home video (probably Harry or Henry) and shakes her head.]</sub>

Man, last time I get Cujo a Christmas present. Ungrateful mutt... _{[She looks out at the orange dot that is Cujo, clearly visible in the far-off snowy landscape, and waves dismissively.]} He'll be back when I start giving treats to all the others.

ANYWAY, uh...

_{[Turning back to the screen, she swipes a hand under her nose briefly. It's been running in the cold.]}

So, Merry Christmas, everyone!

Haven't opened all the gifts yet, but uh, thanks to everyone who sent stuff for us. ... Hope all of mine got through, I kinda mailed some of 'em last minute...

_{[OH WELL. Shrug. They'd get there sooner or later.]}

I'd better go make sure Cooj doesn't lose that thing in a ditch or something, it cost good money. Later!

_[BLIP.]


[OOC: For Ecruteak action, feel free to encounter Heather wandering around town later! She'll be trying to hunt down the friends of hers who are in town so that she can hand them their Christmas swag in person.]

[ALSO feel free to assume your character got their present from Heather, if you haven't already seen the list! I don't think I forgot anybody...]