Okay-- OKAY, OKAY, hang on, I got it!

All right, get back.

<sub>[The sound of big reptilian feet plodding backwards through wet sand can be heard as the camera shows a wobbly view of.... Sunny the Togekiss standing on an appropriately sunny Cianwood beach. The water's lapping at the shore, the sky is bright blue, it's totally beautiful.]

[A PERFECT day to test out the new, hard-earned skill gotten from beating Chuck in a furious fist-fight (and some obligatory after-battle arm-wrestling): Fly.]

[Perched precariously on the back of the big white marshmallow-bird is Heather, kneeling and holding onto the thick white plumage with both hands. She's got a determined expression.]</sub>

Okay. Let's give it a try. I-- no, Dad, it's gonna be FINE, that's why I'm practicing on the BEACH, remember? Sand is soft!

OKAY.

Ready, girl?

Let's-- oh shit aw HELL--

<sub>[With some gentle but powerful WHOMPS, the Togekiss had begun to serenely flap its pillowy wings and take off. ... Without Heather, because Heather has no idea how the hell to ride a flying thing and was promptly jostled off by the wing motion.]

[Touching down again, Sunny trills and lovingly sits upon the face-down Heather like any caring bird mother might with a stupid bird baby that crash-landed after trying to fly.]</sub>

... Okay.

This could take a little practice.

<sub>[You guys.]

[You guys.]

[It is so cold outside.]

[No, seriously, it's bitter and the snow's been building up and for the towns up north like Mahogany and Ecruteak, the snow is rooooollin' in.]

[But unlike last year, when Heather pretty much spent the first snows of the season filming her Pokemon skidding around on the streets of Goldenrod trying to eat snowflakes ... this time, when the feed comes on, it's filming the snow out the window from indoors, where it's brightly lit, with low, cheerful chatter in the background.]

[Outside, the snow is drifting down in big, fat flakes over the old houses of Ecruteak, making the whole dang place look like a gingerbread town.]

[Heather's voice cuts in.]</sub>

Guess what, you guys.

_{[And then the 'Gear is scooted around, giving a jerky view of what seems to be the interiors of one of the several old diners in the town, festively decorated and full of old folks enjoying their coffee. Then Heather's face slides into view, and she leans in for a moment or so, adjusting the 'Gear's position a little, biting her lip as she does so. Then she withdraws, grinning widely.]}

I am no longer a drain on society.

That's right, people.

I have a job.

Try not to faint.

<sub>[... She does look slightly less messy than usual. Like she actually tried to do something with her hair and gave up halfway through as opposed to one sixth of the way through. ... Oh. And also. She's in a dress.]

[... But don't get too excited, guys. There's nothing to fill the dress with so somehow Heather In a Dress looks even more like a boy than Heather In Normal Clothes does. Still, viewers, feel free to take a moment or two to inwardly marvel at the bizarre, surreal vision that is 'Heather Mason in a nice, old-school waitress outfit', but don't expect her to wait up for you. She's already continuing, scratching absent-mindedly at the collar of the dress as she does so.]</sub>

Figured I'd better rake up some cash before Christmas gets too close-- gotta get people presents and stuff, y'know? So yeah. The old folks who own the place are super chill. They make my last manager look like .... well, she already was a psycho bitch-monster of death, but they make her look like even MORE of one. _{[She pauses, canting her head to give the 'Gear one of those 'YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKIN ABOUT' looks, because there HAVE to be some people out there who remember where Heather worked around this time last year. And WHO she worked for.]} Guys who were here one year ago, you probably remember her.

But yeah, so, they gave me permission to check messages and stuff if it's not too busy in here, so! Best bosses ever.

And hey, if you're in the area, stop by and visit or something. It's nice and warm in here.

... Plus...

_{[And that's when she holds up a coffeepot, with a cheerful grin that borders ever-so-slightly on the sinister.]}

I'm legally sanctioned to pour boiling hot liquids in close proximity to people now! Sweet, huh?

_{[End feed. c:]}

<sub>[It's about eight in the morning, the day after Halloween night. Juuuuust the right time for the bright early-morning sun to be shining in through everybody's windows. The Ecruteak Inn in particular is RIGHT in the perfect place for that light to be blaring in, which is why the first thing that shows on the screen (accompanied by the scrapes and jitters of somebody picking the 'Gear up) are the bright white bars of sunlight across the wooden inn-room floor.]

[The next thing it shows is ALSO covered in the bars of sunlight, but it's so BRIGHT that the glare actually maxes out the screen's capacity for a second or two before it adjusts and shows that the gleam is actually the sunlight reflecting in a million little points off of what seems to be a fairly impressive pile of NOT candy like one might expect there to be on somebody's floor after a successful night of trick-or-treating, but... shiny... things?]

[Yes. Shiny things. All kinds. Eyeglasses, doorknobs, strings of still-lit decorative Halloween lights, a genuine police badge, a set of handcuffs, a roll of foil tinsel, some well-polished pots and pans, small hand-held mirrors, coins of all shapes and sizes, more than a few pieces of (gulp) expensive-looking jewelry, a weathervane, several articles of clothing studded with those fake rhinestones, bottles of glitter (as one may imagine, the glitter is now EVERYWHERE), flashlights of all shapes and sizes (all of them are still turned on), a large (and opened) tube of "Sparkle Fun" toothpaste, what appears to be a small army of glossy Mr. Mime-shaped garden gnomes...]

[And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Somebody was productive last night.]

[The unmistakeable sound of a panting dog suddenly invades the speakers and a giant orange blur passes in front of the screen briefly, accompanied by the click-click-click of blunt claws on hardwood.Then the sound of licking, followed by a hoarse groan.]</sub>

Nnngh....

<sub>[Around this point, the view begins to zoom out. .... Erratically and jerkily, like the most poorly-filmed dramatic zoom-out in history, because instead of using the zoom button, the camera-holder is literally scooting backwards across the floor on his butt, all the way to his sleeping bag. Only then is the whole scene revealed.]

[Sprawled across the sparkly spoils of their night on the town are two very, VERY tired teens, now only partially-dressed as the thieving monkey and corvid they started the night out as. Kaito Kuroba is face-down on top of a small, tangled pile of beaded strings (you know, the rainbow-colored kind that hippies hang on their doors), with his monkey-ear headband slid down over the back of his head. And part two of the dastardly duo is flat on her back, half of her poncho rumpled up around her neck and her mask is halfway off. As is expected of someone like Heather, she bears the telltale marks of having apparently gotten into a physical FIGHT with someone at some point during the night, and somewhat LESS expected of someone like Heather, she also has what appears to be an infant Tyrogue clinging to one of her legs.]


[It's like The Hangover, ADD Teenager Halloween Edition.]

[The screen stops jittering once the filmer is safely settled on his sleeping bag once more.]

[Cujo is busy rousing his trainer by licking what's visible of her face while she mumbles protests and sort of feebly slaps him with one hand, while Kaito is dragging his face up off of his uncomfortable-looking pillow and squinting blearily in the bright morning light. Biz the Aipom scampers onto the screen and hops up on his trainer's shoulder to proudly present him one of the many wallets stolen during the night. Nobody particularly notices.]</sub>

Wh... huh...?

Cujo, go 'way ... where... whuhappen...

_{[At last, the mystery filmer finally speaks up, in that mild, quiet tone some of the network may be familiar with as coming from the scruffy, twitchy photographer that follows Heather and her father around and occasionally talks about serial killer owls.]}


Oh, you two are up.

Mr. Mason says you have to give all that stuff back today.

<sub>[The two teens stare at him blearily, and then down at their piles. ... And then at themselves. Kaito reaches up to run his fingers through his hair and produces a small shower of glitter. Heather lifts her leg in the air with a mildly horrified expression at the pink... thing on her leg. Then they look back at Henry.]


[The feed cuts.]





[BUT A FEW HOURS LATER, a much-more-cleaned-up Heather will be popping onto the feed again, hair still sticking in every direction (she'd had it gelled to look like a Murkrow's head feathers) and glitter still sparkling pretty much... everywhere. ... Including her teeth, when she grins sheepishly.]</sub>

Uh... hey, guys... so um... Kaito and I found a bunch of... stuff... that was apparently stolen... by kids in costumes. That totally weren't us.

... So if some weirdos grabbed something from you last night, it might... totally be here.

Yeah.

Uh.

... Happy Halloween.



[OOC: Action for Kaito and roomies, obviously! Otherwise, if your character was in Ecruteak, feel free to assume that the dastardly duo nicked something from them and will be sheepishly returning it at some point today.
Blue = Kaito, Orange = Heather, Brown = Henry.]

Hey, 'Zilla, you got the 'Gear?

This stuff NEEDS to be documented.

<sub>[That's the first thing that can be heard over the feed. When the camera first comes on, a pair of large, familiar reptilian red eyes are blinking down at it. Is it recording...? Oh, okay, recording! Good.]

[Then it zooms out a little, enough to show-- HEY! That's not the Totodile that last hijacked the 'Gear!]

[With newly black-rimmed eyes, a proud red crest, and a new ultra-manly thickened jaw, it would seem that the bratty little Totodile who'd last been seen moping on the network over whether or not he was a good Pokemon... had finally evolved, after a whole year of wanting to stay 'the baby' of the gang. What prompted his choice to finally start growing up?]

[Well, that's a story that'll have to wait till later, because he lets out a satisfied snort at the sight of the red recording light, and then turns it away from himself-- only for the screen to IMMEDIATELY be filled with a grotesquely-detailed rubber Mightyena mask, snarling and sporting a wild mane of black hair over the top!]</sub>

RAAAARRLLGGHHBLAAARG!

<sub>[... Oh wait. The black hair is just Heather.]

[She yanks the mask off, grinning widely.]</sub>

I can't even handle all these epically cheesy costumes, man. Some things really ARE universal.

<sub>[The camera shifts a little-- it's from a much higher vantage-point than normal now, considering all the previous times the camera-croc's been the one filming, it's been from a vantage point on the FLOOR unless he was able to persuade Honey the Butterfree to carry him-- and it becomes apparent that they're in a costume store. There's rack after rack of jumbled costumes everywhere-- looks like it's already been pretty thoroughly ransacked by local kids, but there's still plenty of stuff left. It's just... everywhere.]

[Hanging the mask back up, Heather bends down to start picking through the other odds and ends, which range from cheesy and cheap-looking to actually fairly interesting.]</sub>

Maybe this time around, we'll actually get to ENJOY the holiday instead of spend the whole time running away from rips in the fabric of space and time...



_{[OOC: Action for anybody in Ecruteak, obviously! Feel free to assume your character is already in the shop, Heather will gladly harass them to try on stupid costume crap with her. Also feel free to address the camera-croc.]}

<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.]}

<sub>[The screen is slightly steamed up when it comes on, but it soon clears enough to give a shaky view of the ... bathroom floor, and part of a towel? It doesn't stay there, though. Instead, the focus seems to be (or is TRYING to be) on the football-sized black thing zipping across the floor and out of view.]

[Then the camera awkwardly turns to the face of its holder, who apparently just get out of the shower, judging by the way her hair is plastered down wetly around the sides of her face and the towel she's got wrapped around her shoulders like a cloak. Said shoulders are hunched. Apparently she's perched on the edge of the bathtub. No questionable steamy semi-nude shots from THIS girl, though-- this is SERIOUS BUSINESS, and Heather's voice is an odd mix between amused, proud, and exasperated.]</sub>

This is a Public Services Announcement about why you shouldn't let your Pokemon into the bathroom when they're about to level up even if they do like playing in all the water leftover after a shower.

Watch and be enlightened.

<sub>[The camera turns to the floor again as Heather slowly and methodically sticks one foot out and sets it down on the tile.]

[INSTANTLY and without any warning, the black thing comes streaking back onto the camera with the intention of violently attacking its trainer's toes with a long yellow beak and a volley of chittering squawks.]

[Heather yanks her foot up again with a small shriek and the Murkrow goes scuttling off behind the sink.]</sub>

See? SEE?

Here, I'll repeat the demonstration for anyone who may have missed that.

Everybody watching?

<sub>[She repeats the motion, this time putting both feet on the ground.]

[The attack-crow reappears, wings flared and beak wide-open. It squabbles and pecks around in circles around Heather's feet for a second or two before, once again, skittering off across the floor to hide in the bath curtains, tiny claws clicking on the tiles.]</sub>

I can't make it more than a couple of steps without getting Murkrow'd. I used to be able to outrun her, but now she's like an unstoppable toe-eating machine.

And all because of this.

_{[She presses a button on the 'Gear to make it repeat its last automated message. Which it does, in a cheerful computerized voice.]}

<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.]}

<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: 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.

_{[Well, they say that the holiday spirit shows up in the most unusual of places...]}

( On the first day of Christmas, my supervisor gave to me... )

_{[And with that little mind-screw out of the way, the supervisor Psycho Bitchmonster of Death turns away and skulks malevolently off down the aisle.]}

... well, that was surreal, but...


<sub>[LIKE HELL SHE'S GONNA STICK AROUND HERE! Goldenrod City, look out. Heather is gonna go out and appreciate some SNOW, dammit. Shoving the rest of the boxes hastily into what little space was left on the shelf, Heather climbs down from the ladder and just-- ... DASHES.]

[Tugging a Pokeball out of her pocket, she lets Cujo out (because she'd more or less been expressly forbidden from having him out with her while she worked, because apparently it was bad marketing for Growlithes to try and eat the toothpaste display, but at the same time, ever since the Glitch Incident, she wasn't too keen on leaving him in her room while she worked...).]

[As usual, the Growlithe instantly bounds alongside her, tongue flapping out of his mouth happily as he frolics. OH BOY, WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO TODAY.]</sub>

C'mon, Cooj, let's head to that Underground place-- I can finish grabbing gifts for people and we can get some of those hot candy chestnut things that are probably bad for you but that I let you have anyway because I'm a terrible own-- .... HEY! W- ... where're you going?!

_{[In the middle of listening raptly to Heather's barely-started monologue, Cujo had just... suddenly turned tail in a flurry of creamy fur and gone TEARING off in the opposite direction, leaving Heather with no audience except for his rapidly-disappearing hind end.]}

...


H-HEY! Get-- get BACK here, you mutt--!!

<sub>[SHIT SHIT SHIT IF HE DESTROYED SOMETHING SHE PROBABLY WOULDN'T BE GETTING THE DAY OFF ANYMORE BECAUSE SHE'D BE IN HUGE TROUBLE SHIT FUCK CRAP.]

[Cursing, Heather THROWS herself after the dog, narrowly dodging several customers and more than a few coworkers carrying heavy displays. A tallish construction worker is forced to do a near-pirouette just to avoid clocking her on the head with one of the ladders he's carrying. Heather shouts apologetically over her shoulder as she passes.]</sub>

SORRY, SHAWN.

_{[Cujo, meanwhile, is on a MISSION. For what? Heather has no idea. But SOMETHING. Because she's fairly sure she has NEVER seen him run with this kind of determination before, EVER. She's only just barely staying on his trail-- he's running too fast for her to catch up with. Occasionally she gets glimpses of him up ahead, but JEEZ is it hard to struggle through this crow-- ... wait. Wait. Oh shit, he's-- ... is he going for that guy with the--....?]}

Cooj, NO!

<sub>[Too late, the man carrying a large crate marked 'DELICATE CONTENTS' turns. Too late, the expression of abject horror appears on his face. Too late, he opens his mouth to cry out.]

[And then eighty pounds or so of excited dog careens into him, knocking him, several displays, and the contents of the crate all over the place.]

[Heather comes skidding to a halt in front of the wreckage, face frozen in a mildly horrified grimace.]

[MISTLETOE.]

[MISTLETOE EVERYWHERE.]

[And in the middle of the enormous pile that spilled out of the crate is Cujo, rolling around on his back and making loud snorfle noises, ears splayed out on either side of his head like dumb-looking little wings. His tail is casting sprigs of the spiky-leafed little plant everywhere with each enthusiastic wag.]</sub>

... Cujo.

_{[The Growlithe rolls over and looks up at Heather happily, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Like this picture except with mistletoe and a Growlithe.]}

Cujo-- you are-- you friggin'--



WHAT IS THAT RACKET OVER THERE!?


...S-shit!

_{[Heather urgently reaches down to grab the dog with some difficulty around his pudgy middle and haul him out of the pile.]}

We gotta get outta h-- ACK! Dammit, STOP! Cujo, STOP, you idiot! Come ON!

<sub>[Attempting to shove him back down and stop him from CLIMBING her to try and eat her hair in his spastic joy, Heather turned and ran from the scene of the crime, with a mistletoe-covered Cujo in tow.]

[... And if she'd taken a moment to stop and assess the situation better, she might have noticed that in the struggle, a fairly sizeable sprig of mistletoe was stuck right on top of her head.]

[Oops.]





[ooc: Heather will be running around town doing various Heather things like shopping for gifts, sticking it to the man, and frightening small children. Aaaand unless someone points it out to her... she's probably not gonna realize she's got the kissing equivalent of a 'KICK ME' sign. Feel free to encounter her anywhere in the city! Cujo will also be happy to dispense ~*~DOGGY KISSES~*~ to anyone too close to any of that mistletoe.]

[HAVE FUN.]</sub>

<sub>[... What? Heather? In the Pokemon Center? Again? SURELY YOU JEST. She didn't get her ass kicked by a crazy robber again or anything, did she?]

[For anyone around the Goldenrod Pokemon Center, it looks like Heather's waiting around in the lobby, off in one of the pink, cushiony seats in the corner, trying to look as unobtrusive as possible. Her Totodile is wallowing around beside her on another seat, teething on one of those Pokemon fashion magazines they always seem to have in bulk. And by 'teething', I mostly just mean eating.]

[Heather doesn't look too interested in keeping him out of trouble, though.]

[This would probably have to do with the fact that both of her hands are heavily bandaged and laid in her lap with painstaking gingerness. She's had much worse, but... still hurt. And she was tired. And despite all outward appearances, the knowledge she'd gained on Sunday night wasn't hurting her any less.]

[But yes... ever the mother hen, Phoenix finally bullied her into going in to get those pulverized hands looked at. Not like she wasn't gonna anyway, but... well. She couldn't exactly go back to work without getting them checked out, could she? So she's waiting on an opening-- the Center's pretty busy what with the stocking of emergency snowstorm supplies and all-- not to mention countless natives rushing to get checkups for their Pokemon before the weather turned wicked.]</sub>



[Video]

<sub>[What do you do when you've been sort of scarce for the past few days, and you're stuck with nothing to do? ... GO ON THE NETWORK, of course!]

[The feed fizzles on, showing off a tired, tiiiired Heather. Her eyes look even puffier than normal-- they're red-rimmed. Almost looks like she's been crying, but THAT'S JUST SILLY. She's obviously just really, really tired, am I right, folks?]

[Still, she offers her usual crooked grin to the camera, and it looks no less genuine than normal.]</sub>

'Sup, Johto.

So uh... considering I work in the department store here, I've pretty much got access to all kinds of stuff that isn't sold much in other stores. So, in the spirit of the season... what do you guys want for Christmas? _{[She's addressing her friends, of course-- anyone else who tries to get anything out of her might well succeed... though it might not be what they want.]} No guarantees or anything, but I oughta get my shopping out of the way before the place fills up with crazy shoppers and blows sky-high.

Also, uh... weather's lookin' pretty bad, so... all you dudes who were planning on traveling, either hurry up or stay put.

I'm pretty sure none of us want this to wind up being Flood 2: The Freezing or some crap.

So none of you go and get dumb ideas about getting lost in the wilderness in this, okay? _{[SHE'S LOOKIN' AT YOU, TRAVELING PARTIES. Literally-- she lifts a bandaged hand and does that 'I see what you did there' motion, pointing to her eyes and then to the camera-- ... and then she remembers that whoops, her hands are bandaged like a wolverine attacked them and maybe it's not the best idea to flash them in front of the screen in front of a bunch of people who she just KNOWS will freak-- o-okay she'll just put it back down and carry on like there's nothing out of the ordinary. SO SHE DOES.]}

Also, anyone with Totodiles out there, I need tips.

'Zilla's started gnawing the bedstand in my room and I need him to stop-- but I don't think using a spraybottle on him is gonna work, 'cause... yeeeeaaah.

Advice?

_{[When the camera comes on, Heather's lying on her back on her sleeping bag with Cujo draped over her stomach and a sulky expression on her face. The bandage formerly tied over her eye (looking distinctly nasty now) is crumpled off to the side and in its place is a hot compress, which she's holding gently to the wounded area with one hand. She seems to be holding the PokeGear up above her with the other. Least flattering Myspace-shot ever.]}

So-- how long do I have to keep this thing on?

_{[She's talking to somebody off-camera and judging by the ever-so-patient tone of the reply she gets, which is sort of indistinct but along the lines of 'Until I say you can take it off', that somebody is Otacon.]}

But Haaaaaal.

_{[There is no reply.]}

..... Fine, fine...

I'll just stay here and stew in my misery.

_{[There's a laugh from off the screen and another indistinct reply that is apparently amused at Heather's overdramatic whining and not sympathetic like she'd been hoping. So Heather makes a pouty face and turns her head just slightly so that she can stick her tongue out in his general direction before looking back to the camera.]}


His Dictatorship over there is reveling in his regime of oppression and I'm bored.

Someone please distract me.

_{[SHE'D EVEN WELCOME KNOCK-KNOCK JOKES. THAT IS HOW LOW SHE HAS SUNK.]}

<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>