<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>[Wow.]

[That Vulpix on the screen sure looks pissed.]

[The ironic presence of the happy leftover Christmas lights behind it doesn't help.]

[A heavy sigh sounds from off-camera.]</sub>

Man.

Leave it to her to get one last dig in just when I thought it was over.

<sub>[But Heather apparently isn't gonna elaborate on who 'her' is... though anyone who witnessed Heather's fiery freakout over the summer and knew what it was about might have a decent guess.]

[The camera just shifts as she gets up-- it lingers briefly on what looks like a box filled with crumpled wrapping paper-- in the middle of it sit two large eggs.]</sub>

Hopefully the other living presents we got this year'll be friendlier.

_{[She turns the camera around at last and sort of regards it for a moment, chewing absent-mindedly on her lip. She's got a big wooly winter hat on, so either she just got in or she's about to go out. Probably the latter.]}

... Screw this year, man. Bring on the new one.

_{[HAPPY NEW YEAR ERRYBODY.]}



[ooc: ANYONE IN SAFFRON CITY IS FREE TO RUN INTO HEATHER, or assume she randomly stopped by wherever they are.]

_{[Before anything else, Heather's voice: a little husky and hoarse-sounding, but otherwise high-spirited.]}

Hey.

Hey guys.

Watch this.

<sub>[Is she aware of the strange outbreaks and Team Rocket threats all over the news? Yes. Yes, she is. Should she be spending her time being concerned about this? Probably.]

[But she has much better things to do with her time.]

[Like film Wren the Murkrow skittering across the top of the coffee table in their Ecruteak Inn room with a tiny plastic battleaxe toy in her beak, where she proceeds to bull over a GeoDude (tm) superhero action figure with a viciousness appropriate for the battlefield. Which is what is being broadcast, of course.]

[What follows is a series of cuts showing her triumph over various other toys (pretty obviously grabbed from a discount bin in some shop somewhere), including Armaldo Schwarzenegger and Darmanitanman ("The Meditation Sensation!") and even a figurine of Barnaby the Shiny Charizard.]

[In several of the shots, Heather's other Pokemon are visible-- Arty the Furret looking on in contempt and Cheryl the Eevee watching in utter fascination over the edge of the table. At one point, the fuzzy baby Joltik she'd hatched a few months back skitters onto the scene, eager to help, but is promptly chased off the table again by the axe-wielding Murkrow, who apparently is a Lone Warrior who needs no assistance.]

[The whole time, Heather is humming ominous theme-music and jiggling the camera in that classic 'found footage' way.]

[Eventually she turns the camera on herself to address the surely-enthralled audience solemnly. Her face is oddly flushed, strangely... although perhaps not, given the summer heat.]</sub>

This has been a Public Services Announcement: my bird is an unstoppable killing machine. Nowhere is safe.

Keep your children in at ni-- oh noooo.

<sub>[As though on cue, the vaguely football-shaped black bird had come wriggling onto the screen again, clambering up Heather's arm to determinedly butt the side of her face with the toy axe. >:(!!!!]

[There's some 'fighting' and then the camera goes blank.]


[END FEED]</sub>



[ACTION]

<sub>[With Wren successfully wrestled off into doing something else, Heather shuts the 'Gear and sets it aside, slumping back in her chair with a sigh. Even in shorts and the skimpiest top she owns, it's miserably hot. Enough to sort of make her head pound. She doesn't get it. She remembers the fading summer heat last September being pretty well-managed by all the whirring fans in the Inn...]

[Twisting around, she drapes herself over the back of the chair, poking her tongue out discontently.]</sub>


Guys.

Guuuuuys.

Aren't you just dying in here? This heat is gross.

<sub>[The TV's on over in the corner. They're talking about the outbreak-- about all the people coming down with mysterious fevers.]

[But that's somewhere else. It can't touch any of them. .... Right?]</sub>

<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.]

<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!]

_{[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.

<sub>[It's probably been a week and a half or so since anybody's heard a whole lot from Heather's end of the line-- given the recent turn of events, coupled with catching up on things with her father, she just hasn't been talking much.]

[But if anyone missed the sound of yet another ranty teenager on the 'Gear network, well, today their wishes and hopes will be realized.]

[A crackle of interference precedes her voice, and in the background there's the steady rumble of a Steelix making headway on a dirt path.]</sub>


Heeeey Johto, what's crackin'?

Totally fell off the face of the planet for a bit there.

Anyway, for those who care, Goldenrod just came into sight over the hill, so Dad and I'll be strolling into town within a couple hours, probably.

I'll be lookin' for a few of you as soon as we get checked in and stuff-- you guys know who you are. _{[She's lookin' at you, Kaito. Dinner plans aside, she still needs to give him that hug.]}

And uh-- Snake, you still in the hotel? I'll heal Solid up at the Center first if you want me to, but otherwise, I'm sure he'll be glad to see his Trainer. Sorry the trip wound up takin' so long.

Anyway, uh-- ... see you guys in a few hours.

... Feel free to call me up and chat, though, the road's dusty and it's a real bore to look at for hours on end.




_{[ooc: For Action, feel free to encounter Heather in the hotel lobby or Pokemon Center healin' up her monsters after arriving.]}

<sub>[Most of the time, that whole cliche where people awake from a nightmare by BOLTING upright in their beds, eyes wide, sweat-soaked, and gasping like a fish? Totally false. Real life is rarely that dramatic, and accordingly, neither is Heather's normal reaction to bad dreams. She has them so often that they're rarely worth the energy to make such a scene.]

[But tonight?]

[Screw cliches.]</sub>


AAHHhhhuhgh! Hhhh!

<sub>[She sits upright in a tangle of blankets so fast that the PokeGear on her chest goes flying across the room, clattering to the floor a short distance away from her bed. The video feed button is hit in the process and anyone watching will be treated to a sideways worm's eye view of the bed. Heather's eyes are wide and glossy, her skin and clothing soaked through with sweat. Her chest is heaving like her body is convinced that she's DYING, and to be fair, it probably IS. Her hair is all over the place and goosebumps are standing out on her bare arms like pinheads-- those bandages? Yeah, they got all sweaty and just... unraveled and bunched down around her wrists.]

[The moonlight-- or-- er, the countless Goldenrod streetlights outside, anyway-- reflecting off of her skin just added to the impression that she'd been rolling around in wet grass or something. She was going to be SO cold once the adrenaline wore off and the chill of the cold sweat set in.]

[What... what was... oh, GOD, what the FUCK was...?]

[She looks around the dark hotel room wildly, wheezing, and smears her hair out of her face after a moment and just presses a hand to her temple, shoulders slumping.]</sub>

Holy hell...

<sub>[Pulling in a deep, congested-sounding breath, she looks up again, still pale as a sheet but at least calming down. Dreams. It had all been dreams. ... Well, DUH, it had been dreams-- she had been chased by the friggin' KOOL-AID MAN. But-- even the most vivid of dreams in her normal roster of Traumatizing Nighttime Visions (tm) (and her normal nightmares? Oh hell yes, you BET they were vivid) couldn't even come close to what she had just experienced. It had all felt so... so real.]

[She notices the PokeGear on the floor and just sort of... leans over and half-slides off the bed, reaching out for it with one arm and just hanging off of the edge of the bed at the waist like a gangly ragdoll.]</sub>


What time is it...


<sub>[... Midnight. Just midnight. Okay... Midnight. Ugh. Well, there was no way she was gonna get to sleep after THAT, so... she'll just turn the lights on, watch some TV, and-- .... wait.]

[... Why was the date three days later than she last remembered?]</sub>


.... The friggin' frick...

<sub>[She drops the 'Gear again, and there's some thumping and rustling noises as she unentangles herself from the blankets and drags herself out of bed. Her bare feet walk past the screen and then the door slams. The feed times out eventually.]





[ooc: If your character is in the Goldenrod Hotel and is friends with Heather/she is aware of their being there, expect a violent knock on the door, an encounter with a boxer-and-tank-top-clad Heather who looks like she saw a ghost, and some confusion when she just looks you up and down, decides she's satisfied with the fact that you exist, and wanders off down the hallway in a daze to terrorize someone else.]</sub>

_{[You know how most workplaces have those ridiculous, seemingly-arbitrary rules concerning things like cell phones and mp3 players that make sense in theory but really don't in practice? Well... turns out Johto's no different.]}

[The feed flickers on and off a few times so anyone who's looking at Heather's channel is being treated to a sort of trippy view of the ceiling of one of the many floors in the Goldenrod Department Store, jiggling around as though the 'Gear is the subject of a tug-of-war.]

[And uh... judging by the voices that are conversing in heated tones somewhere off-screen, it is.]


I'm telling you for the last time, Temp! NOOOOO PokeGear use during your shift!


It's my break! I'm not even DOING anything right now!


DON'T you backsass me, young lady! I know your type! Traveling trainers who want to make a quick buck-- you're all the SAME!


Wh-- jeez, calm down! I'm not like-- trying to question your authority or something!! Take a chill pill!


YOU ARE OUT OF LINE!


The guys on the fifth floor said they could use their 'Gears during break!


WELL. This isn't the fifth floor, IS it?!

_{[There's a pause, and then a low, almost inaudible mutter on Heather's part of:]}

Oppressive tyrant....

_{[... But apparently it wasn't inaudible enough.]}

BACK IN MY DAY WE HAD TO TIE OUR MESSAGES TO PIDGEYS AND HOPE TO DEAR ARCEUS THAT THEY DIDN'T GET EATEN BY ARBOKS ON THE WAY THERE!!


E-eep!


I HAD TO WALK TWENTY MILES TO WORK EVERY DAY IN BLINDING SNOWSTO--

<sub>[The feed clicks off.]





[A very resentful-looking Heather slumped in her seat at the cash register, smoldering darkly and glaring at the file cabinet in the staff-room where her PokeGear had been dumped, locked, and left. The words 'AND YOU CAN HAVE IT AT THE END OF THE DAY IF YOU THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE!' were still ringing in her ears.]</sub>

[Jutting her chin out resentfully, she planted it on one palm with her scrawny elbow on the counter, plucking uncomfortably at the fairly-silly-looking Department Store clerk's uniform she had to wear. Yes, there was even a cutesy little hat and a popped collar.]


God, it's like high school all over again....






_{[ooc: Video replies will be answered later in the day when Heather gets off of work and has her PokeGear returned to her!]}

<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>

[OOC: SUP GUYS this is backdated to the day after Heather and Liquid decided that booze was the answer to their problems. ... Which means... this is awhile ago. SORRY I AM A HORRIBLE CONTINUITY-KILLING PERSON. The end results of this post will more or less explain why Heather's been quiet for awhile in the meantime. Sorry sorry sorry! _{Also I apologize in advance for Heather's relatively uncreative vulgarity.}]

... Jesus whoremongling shitfuck. Ass.

_{[SUNLIGHT! Sweet, blessed sunlight! Not a cloud to be seen! And what was once waist-deep water is... puddles! Yeah, fuckin' puddles! This is awesome! The sky is the first thing that the screen shows as Heather practically EXPLODES out the Pokemon Center's doors. She can't leave town quite yet-- there's still some stuff she needs to do and, well, frankly, her Pokemon haven't trained in more than a WEEK so they could stand a little more leveling up before she goes ANYWHERE, but... STILL! FREEDOM! NO MORE STUFFY NURSES! NO MORE GETTING YELLED AT FOR BUILDING FORTS/STARTING FIGHTS/USING EQUIPMENT THE WAY IT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE USED PUT THAT DOWN IMMEDIATELY!]}

YEAH!!

I am NEVER SETTING FOOT IN THAT BUILDING AGAIN.

EVER.

<sub>[Swiveling around, the camera shows Heather's face-- she's grinning like a fiend and looks a whole lot less miserable than the last time she actually made any transmissions. Headaches and fevers kind of blew and she'd spent most of the week curled up in a chair with blankets and tea, feeling too restless to enjoy the stay in the crowded Center but too sick to brave the flooding and find somewhere else to stay.]

[Barking can be heard-- Cujo is running in circles in the mud, accompanied by his compatriots, plus a small Poliwag, and minus a Magikarp. Heather finally gave in and put that thing in its ball.]</sub>

Heather Mason is back in action! Along with her troops-- _{[The camera shakes.]}. ... okay never mind they're running around too much for me to focus on them, but-- yeah um. .... _{[Back to her face.]}

YEAH!

So, uh-- Liquid! I'm comin' to meet you if you can get out of the Tower-- _{[She doesn't know about the GIANT PLANT OF DEATH yet.]}-- and I expect you to remember what we talked about and keep that promise. It's VERY IMPORTANT. _{[SERIOUS EXPRESSION.]}

Other than that, gonna go run around in the wilderness!

SEE YA.

<sub>[End transmission.]




[OOC: Feel free to action if your character is in Violet City or its surrounding wilderness, or wants to run into Heather outside Sprout Tower later.]</sub>

_{[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:]