route_1065 | COVERED IN BEEEEEEEEEES!

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Current Location: Route 30

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COVERED IN BEEEEEEEEEES!

Who: Heather and Zack
Where: Route 30-- not TOO far from Cherrygrove.
When: Slightly backdated-- a little before noon.
Summary: Heather was a little miffed to learn that there was a raging swarm of angry mutant bees preventing her from making a safe start to her journey to Violet City. Until she remembered that where there are regular household appliances, there are solutions. To everything. And then Zack had to go and encourage her.
This will either end really well, or horribly bad.
Rating: PG for extremely destructive behavior. Potentially R if things go south, because Heather has the mouth of an angry tatoo'd motorcyclist and she will use it.

Log:

Even in the shade of the forest, the sun beat down through the leaves mercilessly. It was hot. Really hot.

And if that wasn't bad enough, all around, there was the growing hum of many, many insectoid wings. Anyone who's been on the receiving end of multiple stings will remember that humming sound forever.

Heather Mason was no exception.

"Okay. So."

Wiping her dusty hands off on her pants like a clean person, she gestured to the small array of cleaning materials and containers they had amassed.

"When you combine bleach and detergent, it makes this nasty gas. I've gotten rid of big biting bug swarms with it before. The problem is that it's corrosive, and if it gets on you... well, yeah. SO."

Throwing a few coils of rope down onto the ground, she put her hands on her hips.

"We gotta get creative."

...... Oh no.

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"All right!" Grinning widely behind the ski mask, Heather gave Zack a thumbs-up. "Just make sure I'm out of the way before you swing it. But when you DO swing it, you gotta really huck it."

And with that final cryptic instruction, Heather turned and disappeared through the brush.

Into BEE KINGDOM.

"Right... huck it."

He knew how to huck things. He was a regular hucking professional! He'd huck their brains out!

Zack adjusted his position a bit ... just in case he was blocking his escape route. No other tree branches would impede his view when the time came to take a careful aim.

"Good luck, Heather," he muttered under his breath, keeping the bucket steady. He might have been a derp, but he wasn't stupid enough to shout that to her at the last minute.

Heather had been sort of planning to make a bunch of noise in the process of attracting the bees.

You know, yell some witty remarks, whack some brush with a branch...

Unfortunately, she didn't get the chance. All she had to do was show her scruffy blond head.

The buzzing upped in intensity from 'low hum' to 'demonic weedwhacker'.

"Shit!"

Heather came tearing back through the bush at an impressive speed-- she hadn't been lying when she said she was fast. Good thing, too-- because by the time she'd reached Zack, the Beedrill had already arrived at the edge of the little clearing.

And they were pissed.

Skidding straight past Zack, Heather hollered over her shoulder.

"Throw it! Throw it throw it throw it!"

"Shit, shit, shit, shit..."

He could hear the commotion coming long before he was given the command to give the big push... The sound of the insectoid wings was so deafening it made his teeth chatter involuntarily.

When she finally did whiz by after what seemed like an eternity, Heather definitely didn't have to tell him to chunk that thing twice!

And.... Holy. Shit.

Those things were huge.

Eyes widening, Zack gave a feral shout, took aim at the biggest and the closest, and hurled that fucking bucket just as hard as he could -- which was pretty hard. The second the bucket left his hands, he grabbed up that big stick he had been saving for the occasion.

And then Zack ran. Did he look back? Absolutely not. But he did get a well-positioned, barbed sting right in the middle of his back for his trouble, which induced a roar of rage.

Heather was light on her feet, and very fast. Probably faster than Zack was-- though given the situation, that probably wasn't a good thing. She didn't want to leave him behind.

She was also just starting to see what a bad idea taking on an entire swarm of three-foot bees with a single bucket of death was.

"RUN! RUN!!"

In the meantime, the bucket sailed towards the oncoming horde-- not knowing what awaited them, several of the Beedrill plunged their arm-needles straight through the plastic as they met it, their collective thought process probably being along the lines of 'hurr hurr destroy things hurr'.

Much to their surprise, the instant result was a bigass cloud of previously-contained corrosive, poisonous gas.

Pokemon were hardy things-- it certainly wasn't enough to kill them. The Pokemon world had different standards of just what was enough to do serious, permanent damage with. But it sure as heck packed a punch.

The buzzing turned from angry to startled, and quite suddenly a large portion of the swarm-- what of it hadn't fallen to the ground, twitching in pain, decided it had other places to be.

That didn't stop the three or four that were already hot on Zack and Heather's trail, though.

They wanted blood.

Guys? Now might be a good time to start looking for a large body of water to jump into.

"Son of a bitch!"

Well, once that sucker got its first sucker-punch of a sting into his back, it might have hurt like hell... but it was on.

Skidding to a halt, that prideful SOLDIER set his jaw and turned around to face the cocky little asshole who'd taken a shot at a man running away -- and, to his surprise, saw not one, but three of the pokemon brimming with rage squaring off to face him.

Lips curling into a snarl, he met the first one halfway and waylayed it across its side with the thicker end of the tree branch, aiming more for the wings than its thorax -- but when the other two didn't even flinch at the threat of being thwacked, he just... kept swinging.

No time to aim strategically
He was just beating the fuck out of some angry bees.

"Back off! GET LOST!"

Each hefty blow would send one reeling for a precious few seconds, but one of its two brethren would relentlessly take its place. The first, of course, moved a bit more slowly (albeit a lot more angrily) than the other two due to a cracked wing.

It wasn't until she heard the angry yelling behind her that Heather realized her partner in crime wasn't hot on her heels.

She knew better than to skid to a halt-- no, that sort of maneuver got you killed when you were being chased. And she had plenty of experience with being chased. Instead, she turned and ran in a wide circle.

"ZACK! Don't fight 'em, RUN!"

... Aaaand then, in a direct contradiction to her own advice, she snatched up a stick, herself, and came in swinging. Considering her scrawny teenage...ness, it was a considerably smaller stick, but she made up for size with viciousness.

One of the Beedrill went spinning off into the bushes.

"C'mon, doofus! We gotta get out of here!"

Growling in frustration, he did take one or two steps backward after sending a second one wheeling with a colossal backswing.

"I'm going, I'm going!!"

It was just that -- He was Zack Fair! He naturally sucked at stuff like running away!

Needless to say, though, after that final little shitstain Beedrill got in another sting on the recovery of that backswing, he was ready to call it quits.

"RRRGH! I'm outta here!!"
Geesh... that hurt...

Dropping the branch, he gritted his teeth and gave a much more enthusiastic bound in the direction of Cherrygrove, keeping an eye on Heather to make sure she'd be off with him.

It's okay, Zack! Pretty sure that in this case, you're justified in running like hell.

Heather tossed her stick at one of the attackers before turning tail and running, herself. She wasn't sure they'd MAKE it to Cherrygrove-- but they could sure as hell try anyway.

"Try and lose them!"

They'd cut down their number of pursuers to two-- the one with the cracked wing wasn't fast enough to keep up, and the one Heather had whacked so enthusiastically had apparently decided they weren't worth it.

Zack tore through the forest area like a bat out of hell, cradling his swelling arm and doing his best to ignore the searing venom that had been delivered dangerously close to his spinal column on the first sting. Since when did his hero-ing suck so badly, seriously? A few knocks should have taken out all three of those damn bees...

Try and lose them?! What the hell did she think he was trying to do?!

"Should we split up?!"

The course to Cherrygrove was pretty much a straight shot, but two targets were harder to strike than one.

Edited 2010-06-25 05:26 (UTC)

Heather did have antidotes with her-- on a certain Liquid Snake's advice, she'd stocked up on them before leaving on this little venture. If she hadn't been so busy running for her life, she'd have noticed her Crazy Scheme Buddy's injuries and offered to help.

But not-dying came first. THEN they could lick their wounds.

"Just-- run!"

SOUND ADVICE. From someone who couldn't think of anything better at the moment.

"If we can get indoors--" She trailed off into a small screech as one of the things dive-bombed her. No sting, but there was a large tear in her ski-mask now and she had no desire to give the angry Pokemon another try.

His wounds were more of a source of anger than something that he meant to bitch and moan about. Running was, fortunately, one of the simple tasks that he could excel in regardless of handicaps. Now, if one of them took a shot at one of his legs... that might have posed a bit of a problem.

That was not the case, however, and he followed the sound advice of his partner's brilliant plan and kept running.

The fact that one of those things had divebombed her hadn't escaped his attention and he matched her pace for a moment.

"You didn't get hit, did you?!"

"Nnn-- nuh uh!" At least she didn't THINK so. There was no time to do a thorough check.

She was, however, thoroughly pissed at the bees. And she kind of wished she didn't know that stopping and fighting was a really stupid idea.

"J-just keep running! I can see the town through the trees!"

Heather was right --- the town was close. Unfortunately, the bees were closer. Nothing to do now but to give it all on the homestretch, but...

... What the hell was all this? His pace was slacking a little; His hands and feet were tingling. No doubt the affects of the stings' venom were being accelerated by his physical output. Head swimming but heart set, he kept on, making sure his eyes remained on the prize.

Heather had already streaked ahead when she noticed Zack was lagging.

That was not good.

That was not good at all.

She didn't dare yell-- she was short of breath already. She did, however, stop, turn around, and then did something that they proooobably should have done from the beginning, and that was to throw a Pokeball.

A bloodthirsty Sentret exploded out of the ball and attached itself to one of the Beedrill. The element of surprise had... limited use but it was sort of okay in this situation.

Yeah Heather was juuuust starting to realize that if Zack got hurt bad, it was kind of her fault.

This wasn't exactly how he had envisioned this mission going, either... In fact, he'd assumed that he would be the one stroking down Beedrill after Beedrill, protecting Heather from harm while simultaneously erradicating the plague that prevented travelers from safely traversing the path from one city to the other.

... Uhhh, yeah. Wake up call.

Wobbling a little, he slowed to a stop himself when he saw that Heather wasn't running with him anymore (even though he hadn't really been 'running' at that point... it had been more like a stumbling, zombie-meandering).

"Ugh... A battle...?"

Through a throbbing haze, he pulled a pokeball of his own pocket, nearly dropping it twice in the process. Getting Angela out of the Pokeball? That would take a second or two. Pokeballs were very complicated pieces of equipment for a swooning, envenomated idiot.

Arty the Sentret had been relatively cooped up during the time that Heather had been working at the Pokemon Center, and it also had some aggression issues.

Aaaaaand it was more than happy to buy them some time by scratching the shit out of those Beedrills.

Should Angela be able to get out of her Pokeball, though, some help would probably be appreciated. And necessary. Arty was vicious but not... technically that strong.

"Zack!"

Heather was already frantically wrestling one of the Antidotes out of her bag. The least she could do for someone who she more or less just put in mortal peril (even if he was totally gung-ho about it) was try to cure him before he dropped dead.

"Nah, nah... I got this."

He half-stumbled away from Heather stubbornly, frowning furiously until he was finally able to accomplish the daunting task of pushing the button on Angela's Pokeball. The little dragon sprung with a flash of red into the battle... and more or less deduced what was going on here. Why her trainer looked sleepy, she wasn't entirely sure. But, hey, there was a battle going on. Angie did enjoy her battles.

Snarling in eensy weensy draconic fury, she coiled her body around that Beedrill and squeezed.

In the mean time, Zack leaned against the tree close by and watched woozily.

"No, you don't! Hold still!" Why yes, Heather WAS going to attempt to do it by force if he wouldn't cooperate. And yes, that did mean that she would get in his face with the Antidote and try to spray it on him. She didn't know how long it would be before the Beedrills would potentially shake off the two Trainers' Pokemon and come for them again, so she couldn't quite be as thorough as might be needed in the long run.

Arty was scratching away at a pair of sensitive antennae when Angela joined the fray, and the raccoon Pokemon chittered a sort of greeting. Kickin' ass and takin' names was a sport that welcomed team-mates, after all!

The last encounter Angela had with a Sentret had been almost equally violent, but not nearly as... impressive. The little guy had guts -- she had to give him that. Joining in on the excited chittering, she threw back her head and squealed a violent war-cry.

The best way to immobilize something that flew... Paralyze it. Shrieking in anticipation, it discharged a mild electric shock into the bug [thunder wave] and held on tight.

"Nah... Nah..." He repeated himself over and over, waving her off and shuffling away.

"Angela's got this... I got this..."

Without TM's, Sentrets can't do a whole lot besides flat-out physical assault. So watching that electric attack made Arty a little... jealous. JUST a little. But they were working together, so...!

The Beedrill had just about had enough. This particular prey was proving to be just a little too much of a hassle to be worth it. Waving its stingers irritably, the non-Paralyzed Beedrill shunted Arty off onto the ground with a well-placed flick and immediately turned tail and disappeared back through the trees.

Heather's eyes narrowed.

"Do I have to tackle you?"

She WOULD, too! ... Or she'd at least try. Zack was a big dude and Heather, while athletic, was kind of a string-bean. But she threw herself at him anyway, hoping that even in the event that she didn't succeed in knocking him down, she'd at least be able to hang on an get a chance to deliver the cure.

"Wait... wait, no!!"

Heather used Tackle!

A critical hit!

It's super effective!

Well, she wouldn't be getting a whole lot of struggling from Zack Fair. Two poisonous stings -- or, more importantly, one sting to the spinal column -- had run the SOLDIER at a rate so rapid that even a string-bean tackle was enough to put him over the edge.

His status had changed from PSN to FNT. The man was out cold.

On the flipside, Angela had unwrapped herself from the Beedrill when it had decided to fly off and landed in a big ol' pile of herself with a sigh. Battles always ended too quickly.

Oh well! She scooped up the little Sentret that had formed the other part of her tag team and nuzzled at the spot on its stomach affectionately.

WOMP.

ANTIDOTE TIME!

Heather... wasn't sure exactly where to spray the stuff, and she wasn't about to, you know, tear off all his clothes to find the stings. So she tried to angle open his mouth and spray it in there. Rude? Yeah, probably. But she'd rather invade his personal space bubble than let him DIE.

At least he was breathing, though.

It was safe to say that Heather would need to owe him some serious apologies when he came around. And favors. And quite possibly some kind of written contract that stated she wasn't allowed to share her brilliant ideas with him anymore.

The Sentret was also disappointed that the fight had ended early. Dammit, a whole week stuck hanging around a boring-ass doctor's office and now there wasn't even a decent ass-kicking! THIS SUCKED.

Until it was quite suddenly scooped up and nuzzled. Well, okay. That was cool then.

VICTORY CUDDLE SESSION~!

Angela trilled loudly in delight and got acquainted with her new friend, utterly unaware (or perhaps nonchalant) of the state her trainer was in.

Of course, Zack didn't put up much of a fight for Heather. He couldn't. The guy was unconscious.

Arty, for its part, was a fairly bloodthirsty little thing. And if it hadn't seen Angela more or less annihilate that Beedrill, it just might not have been so receptive to the cuddles. Buuuuut given that Angela could probably pound the raccoon Pokemon into the ground, Arty could summon up its cuddly side.

Aaaand Heather was left with a dilemma. One that she hooonestly wasn't sure would turn out that well. She'd done plenty of retarded, risky things before, but none of them had usually wound up with someone else unconscious unless it involved a lot of alcohol in which case it was usually their own fault.

She wasn't going to flip her shit over how guilty she was and sink into despair-- that wasn't her style. But she would sit there next to Zack, wringing her hands slightly and hoping to dear god that her stupidity hadn't killed him. He had a pulse and he was breathing, but he was also too heavy for her to drag back to town, even though they were pretty close.

_{And of course it didn't occur to her to put a litter of sticks or something together and drag him because apparently her creativity had been used up on the Incredible Bee Caper and she was paranoid that any further thinking-outside-the-box would result in an explosion or something.}

So after spraying the Antidote out in its entirety on his mouth and whatever she could find of the stung spots that didn't require her to tear off his clothing, she'd just... sit next to him and look really guilty.

.... Was it a little too late to say 'Oops, my bad'?

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HOLY SHIIIIIIIIIIT BEES

RUN AWAY

hurr hurr destroy things hurr XDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

BEEDRILL ARE NOT THE BRIGHTEST CRAYONS IN THE BOX.

ZACK, I AM DISAPPOINT.

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THAT SENTRET'S NAME IS CUDDLES THE DEATH-DEALER. /bad metalocalypse joke

FFFFFFF THAT IS AN APPROPRIATE NAME.

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gawd he's such a baby.

Deadly venom is a pretty good excuse to be a baby!

BUT IT ISN'T MANRY ENOUGH DX

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