<sub>[So what's the best thing for someone who's been spending their time alternately fretting and pretending not to be fretting over circumstances well beyond their control?]

[A) More fretting
B) Meditation
C) A DISTRACTION]

[If anyone answered anything other than C, they're either very silly, or Cooper.]

[Heather is neither (.... okay, maybe she's the former quite often), so needless to say... when the posters for the Johto-wide fighting tournament going on in Goldenrod City hit the streets, they were the first thing to catch her eye. In fact, anyone spending any amount of time with her in person has probably noticed the way she's been stopping in the middle of whatever she was doing every single time she passes one of the damn things to look at it contemplatively, with a cocked head and a sort of half-wistful, half-devilish look in her eye.]

[As such, nobody whatsoever should be surprised when she pops up on the network on the day of signups ending with one of the flyers in hand. She'd been waffling on account of the fact that her father was sure do disapprove, but... man, she's been spoiling for something like this for months, and she's got... more than a little steam to blow off. Steam that isn't always so easy to blow off in a world where society expects you to resolve all your conflicts by letting animals do your fighting for you.]</sub>

YO Johto, what's the happs?

_{[She grins broadly and then flourishes the poster at the screen.]}

Guys. Guys. Look.

Look at this.

Best thing ever, or BEST thing ever?

Who else's gonna sign up?

I'M gonna. ... Assuming the puppy-eyes work on Dad, I guess. They're a little rusty but I was once the puppy-eyes champion so I should be okay. And for anybody weirded out by the surreal idea of ME doing puppy-eyes, ask yourselves this: how ELSE could I have gotten away with all the crazy crap you totally know I got up to as a kid?

_{[A sly, knowing nod.]}

Yeah, makes more sense now, doesn't it.

ANYWAY.

_{[Another flourish of the poster.]}

So if any of you are planning on being in this thing, gimme a shout! I wanna size up the competition and stuff. ... And also, transportation? I'm in Ecruteak, so... if anyone's in the area, I guess we could carpool, or something? _{[She's not opposed to the idea of leaping on a strange Pidgeot if she HAS TO, buuuuut...]} I mean, the Tournament isn't supposed to LAST too long, so I'm guessin' we'd all only be gone for like... what, a week or two at most? Then I'd be headed back to Ecruteak because seriously, nice place.

Anyway... _{[She trails off, eyes flicking off to the side of the screen.]} I'd better go convince Dad that I won't die if I do this. _{[Eyes back to the screen, she gives a somber, soldier-like nod and salutes solemnly.]} Wish me luck, my people.

<sub>[BOOP. End feed.]

[TIME TO GO FIND DAD.]</sub>

<sub>[What tiiiiiiiiiiime is it?]

[.... GYM BATTLE TIME!]

[The feed, as often is the case whenever Heather actually films one of her battles, seems manned by the resident camera-crocodile, and airborne thanks to Honey the ever-patient Butterfree (although not quite as airborne as it was back in Violet City during the victory over Falkner-- Godzilla isn't exactly a little baby anymore...]

[Nonetheless, the fight is filled with the usual combo of snippy one-liners from Heather and NON-STOP ACTION, because man, if it's gonna be broadcast, might as well make it showy! The first half of the battle is largely dominated by Cujo-- but when Jasmine sends out her monstrous Steelix, Heather recalls the pup and turns briefly to the camera to smugly reassure the viewers--]</sub>

Cooj totally has this, but it wouldn't be fair to let him have ALL the fun, y'know?

_{[With a knowing grin, she promptly hucks a different ball onto the field-- releasing a dainty Ponyta.]}

GET 'em, Carousel!

<sub>[For something that had been a gangly little foal around Christmas, Carousel's done a lot of growing-- which is PARTICULARLY evident in the fight that she proceeds to put up against the metal snake's attacks, prancing and leaping to avoid most of the blows-- Heather had clearly been training her quite a bit during the month or so she'd been in Olivine by now.]

[Although, something a little odd-- which could of course be because of Zilla's filming, the Totodile doesn't exactly have the steadiest hands (claws?) when it comes to holding the camera... but... did Carousel suddenly get quite a bit BIGGER as she came leaping over the Steelix's flaming coils...?]


[... HUH. Well, whaddya know. What lucky timing!]

[As the Steelix comes crashing down to the Gym's sandy floor, rolling feebly to put out the flames, the audience is treated to a very artistic sideways view of the a set of long, snowy legs trotting over to their trainer, who is looking surprisingly NOT triumphant over her victory. In fact, she looks kinda... shell-shocked. Aaaand then the camera swings away again to show the defeated Gym Leader, who fortunately handles these sorts of things a LOT more gracefully than You-Know-Who in Goldenrod...]</sub>

My goodness...

_{[The camera shuffles a short distance away so it can get a good view of both trainers-- Zilla wants to give people the FULL EXPERIENCE, after all!]}


That was a quite exciting battle... Did you know your Ponyta was about to evolve?

Um...

_{[Shooting the now-Thoroughbred-sized animal beside her an unsure look, Heather startles sideways slightly when the Rapidash stretches her neck out to nose at the side of her face. Shuffling a step or two to the side, she pats Carousel's nose distractedly, more with the intention of pushing her gently away than anything else.]}

No...

Well! What a... lucky coincidence! ... I'm sure you would have done fine anyway, though... your Pokemon are quite the little spitfires! Please, um... take the Mineralbadge. You've earned it!

Thanks--!

_{[Too distracted to even snicker at the unintentional pun, Heather sloooowly steps away from the fiery unicorn and starts to head across the sand towards the camera to claim her prize-- which is where the feed cuts out.]}

[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.

_{[It's cold today. You know that miserable part of winter that comes in the last stretch before spring? It's not that somehow-festive, powdery cold with deep blue nights and busy-but-cheerful days buzzing with anticipation that stretch through December... It's not even the fresh, new whiteness of January.]}

[It's that dismal, perpetual grayness that fogs up February. You know the kind. The days are dark, the streets are full of slush, and the sidewalks are covered in black ice. It's just as cold as December, but it's somehow worse because at least in December you've got that tingly holiday feeling to keep you warm. February, on the other hand, has nothing to look forward to and it lasts forever.]

[Everybody hates February.]

[But when the feed clicks on, it's NOT outside-- it's already in the brightly-lit gym of Goldenrod City, and the camera is.... roughly at knee-level, and conveniently pointed straight at what appears to be a Miltank udder. Because that's how tall Godzilla is and lol what is that thing it's funny-lookin' and he's apparently not aware that UDDERS ARE NOT WHAT PEOPLE WANT TO LOOK AT.]

[In the background, there's a sound that should be VERY familiar now to anyone who's been watching the network recently--]
   
BWUUHHHHUHUHUHUHAAWHWHHHH! AHAWWWHHUH, y-ou-- you-- you meanie! Y-youhuhuh can't-- you just-- .... y-you're always so MEAN!  
 
_{[The camera's shifting and Whitney's white-shoed feet are pacing back and forth fitfully as she cries.]}

[Heather's voice cuts in from somewhere above. It's even and level-headed, but there's an underlying quiver that anyone who's known Heather for any length of time will recognize as being a sign that she is physically restraining herself from strangling somebody.]

Look-- lady-- ... girl-- thing, during that battle, I deliberately refrained from being mean because every friggin' time I come in here, you're fucking CRYING EVERYWHERE.

I KNOW! I r-ruh-remember you, y-you always c-come in here to w-watch your MEAN FRIENDS and then y-you c-call me a BABY!

... Well, you are!

Y-YOU'RE SO MEAN TO ME, J-JU-JUST G-GO AWUH-WAY!!!"

I CAN'T, you haven't given me the freakin' badge-- AND WILL YOU STOP CRYING?!

AAAWWHHHHUHUHUHUHUHHHHHHHHH....!!!

Oh, for fuck's sa--

_{[The feed jitters to a soundless halt around that point-- Godzilla hit a wrong button and muted the sound. However, as the minutes pass, it looks like Whitney's calming down-- consoled by her girlfriends and probably a (VERY) grudging effort on Heather's part. As this happens, the camera shifts around occasionally-- showing a battered-looking but serene Honey, an irate Arty licking at two big flat sections of her fur (during the battle, she was a Rollout Victim (tm)), and Cujo, as derpy as ever.]}

[And then, the sound comes back on-- what's this? Heather sounds even pissier than she was when Whitney was crying!]

-ok, I don't care if you have a really good hairstylist, I am not here for a haircut. I don't care that I have split ends and I don't care that my roots are showing. I am here because you won't give me my freakin' badge.

WELL. I just thought that I'd offer some advice because you clearly were raised in an environment where nobody taught you how to take care of your own personal hygie--

_{[Heather's voice is tinged with absolute disbelief.]} I am not-- I'm not even listening to this. This is bullshit.

You're friends with that girl with the gorgeous pigtails! How could you possibly be friends with her and still have such an atrocious haircu--

For friggin'-- MY HAIR IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. Give. Me. The badge. Or I will--

_{[She pauses, probably looking over her shoulder-- quite a few of her friends showed up to watch and, being much better people that she is, several of them are probably giving her VERY MEANINGFUL GLANCES RIGHT ABOUT NOW. With a deep sigh, she evidently turns back to Whitney.]}

Okay. Look. I'm sorry that I'm a huge mean asshole with awful hair. Now, will you please give me the badge?

_{[Whitney brightens up visibly on the camera and completely ignores the badge request.]}

So you admit it? YAY! Anyway, like I was saying about my stylist, he's great with hopeless cases, and seriously, I don't think you'll be able to find anyone else who can handle your hopeless case, I mean, seriously, it's that hopeless, no offense or anything, it's not like it's your fault, and--

I'd go to your stylist... _{[Heather's voice is dangerously low.]} ... if I wanted to look like a tool.

<sub>[Whitney falls silent. Her expression is that of a well-meaning but tactless teenage girl who was only trying to help. The camera zooms in on her face slowly. Her eyes... are welling up with tears again.]



... oh motherf--</sub>



[TEXT to Phoenix and Snake, sent hastily as she's coming off the battlefield-- both are in the stands.]

Dave, Phoenix-- you guys okay with leaving tomorrow?

Im packed.




_{[OOC: Action for anyone who went to see Heather battle! She probably asked several of her closest friends if they'd like to come, considering she was about to leave Goldenrod for a spell.}
For the watchers, the battle was intense and fairly close, but Heather stuck it out in the end. Honey's Stun Spore was integral.]

<sub>[ooc: Backdated to earlier on the 14th.]


[When the PokeGear comes on, all it shows at first is a dizzying view of the dirt and pebble as Heather walks, fiddling with the grip on the device until she can hold it up to show the slightly-pudgy Growlithe trotting alongside her, pink tongue lolling out.]</sub>

Okay, Cooj.

As of twenty minutes from now, we are officially free.

No more warrant, no more hiding out, no more nothing. Our slates will be wiped clean. What do you say to that?


WOOF!

Truer words never spoken.


<sub>[There, the motion suddenly stopped and the camera swiveled around and upwards to show that they had arrived at their destination. Cue worm's-eye view of the front facade of the Azalea Town Gym, crowned with a nice blue sky. Heather couldn't have asked for a better morning for her warrant to expire.]

[... Except that it apparently wasn't expired yet? ... Wait, then why was she in town? ..... Oh no. Heather. No.]</sub>


All right, ladies and gents, it's time for me to blow this popsicle stand and get outta here. But first, there's oooone last thing I gotta do.

_{[The camera turned back down to Cujo, whose tail was waggling furiously.]}

All right, Cooj. What's our strategy?


WOOF!

That's right, be badass mofos. Are we gonna pull that strategy off?

WUFF WOOF!

Damn right we're gonna pull it off. The rest of the guys might not be with us right now, but you and me can handle it. Let's do this!

Now say hi to all the beautiful men and women out here who might be watching this.

_{[Cujo responded with another resounding WOOF, punctuating it with a little hop of the front legs and flop of his overgrown mane.]}

That's my good boy.

Now let's kick some ass.

<sub>[The doors opened.]





[Bugsy was a pretty chill dude. Which wasn't too surprising, because... c'mon. Bugs. There was something just sort of relaxing about the concept of a boy and his dog giant killer praying mantis relaxing together on a nice bright morning with sunlight shining in through the big Gym windows.]

[Too bad he wouldn't be able to relax for long.]

[The camera jiggled insistently from where Heather was keeping it propped on her shoulder. She threw out one pointing arm in a cliche I CHALLENGE YOU pose. Because... let's be honest. You all know you've wanted to do that at least once in your life.]</sub>


Hey! Hey you!


_{[Bugsy looked up from his book and sized her up with a slightly exasperated look on his face. She couldn't much blame him. It was probably near his lunch break. He looked her up and down, then paused, one brow arching.]}

... Aren't you one of the people the police put a warning out about a couple weeks ago?


_{[Heather paused. UM.]}

Uhhh.... for the sake of this conversation, no.


_{[... Bugsy glanced at the big clock on the wall-- one of those stadium ones that every Gym had.]}

... Uh. _{[Awkward smile.]} ... You do know those warrants expire in about twenty minutes, right?

Yeah, but... where's the fun in waiting?

_{[... Bugsy considered this, then smiled in a half-amused, half-"... really?" fashion as he got up, brushing grass off the seat of his shorts.]}

You want to battle me, then?

_{[Heather grinned a toothy grin that wasn't visible on-camera, but you could hear it plain and clear in her voice.]}

Well I'm sure not here as a tourist!

WOOF!

... And neither is he. _{[She jerked the camera at Cujo.]}

All right, but... don't blame me if someone with a police badge walks in here during the battle...

Heh, like that'd happen... <sub>[What reason would the police have to come into a Gym, pshaw.]

[Bugsy reached to his bag and withdrew a Pokeball, weighing it briefly in his hand before hurling it high in the air.]</sub>

SCIZOR! Swords Dance!


<sub>[Sunlight from the windows glinted off of the chitinous red exoskeleton of the giant mantis as it emerged from the Pokeball, wings buzzing with the hum equivalent of a hundred bees' nests. Blades flashing, it dove.]

[But guess who did her research this time around?]</sub>

CUJO! FLAMETHROWER!

( That CRUSHING, CRASHING, ATOM-SMASHING, WHITE-HOT thing's INVINCIBLE! Oh oh owh! )

( Five minutes later... )