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

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



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

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

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

Yeah, yeah.

Let's just get this over with.


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


( Trainers take your positions! )


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

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


Oh, is THAT how this is gonna be?

Real mature.

You think you can scare me with that psychic shit?

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

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

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

Yeah. And I proved it.

Let's go, Cooj.

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

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



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



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

Man, screw that noise.

I got the badge, I'm outta here.

Sayonara, Saffron City.




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

<sub>[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 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.]

_{[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.

Christmas Eve.

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

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

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

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

And Heather?

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was to name a few.

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

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

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


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

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

It reminded her of home in that way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



The sight tugged a smile onto her face.

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

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

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

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




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

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

<sub>[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... )

_{[It's brief. Heather turns the camera on directed at her face-- she's holding up her broken-ass umbrella to shield herself from the drizzle. James and Harry cannot be seen, but their voices are in the background.]}

Finally got back.

As usual, the heat breaks as soon as we get somewhere with air conditioning... and it starts to rain as soon as I walk into Violet. S'deja vu all over again.

We'd better not get another flood.

Anyway, m'back. Sorry for taking forever. _{[If she wasn't so tired and miserable, she'd have made some kind of quip about James being the one to slow them all down, but she doesn't have the oomph.]}

Gonna crash in the inn, I think.

Be nice to see y'all again.

_{[There's more than a few people she meant to address specifically, but upon thinking it over, she decides napping is a better choice for the moment. So the camera flicks off.]}


Private Text to Otacon:

I'm back. Does Liquid know Snake is here yet? Is everyone okay?




_{[ooc: Just figured I'd get one last post in before I left. See you guys, I'll be in contact!]}

_{[The entry is dated as having been sent out the previous evening, roughly when she said she'd be reporting back to begin with.]}

[Despite Heather's best efforts, her Pokegear got pretty wet in the adventure, so video and voice is out.]


[There's nothing in the transmission but a picture:
Heather, along with three others-- Kay, Luke, and Rhode-- all of them looking wet (three guesses as to where THEY were for the past few hours!), exhausted, and bedraggled, but nonetheless relieved, are among the milling crowd in Violet City's brightly-lit Pokemon Center, which as expected has been packed to the brim with relief efforts and people seeking shelter. Heather has a towel around her shoulders and is presumably holding up the Pokegear to snap the photo. She's wearing a weary grin and doing the classic thumbs-up gesture with her free hand.]

[Along with the photo, there's a caption:]