route_1065 | Something's familiar about these strangers like me...

Current Mood: terrified
Current Location: Olivine Woods

Entry tags:

Something's familiar about these strangers like me...

Who:

heatherusedrage,

harryusedworry and

no_ufo_ending [CLOSED]
Where: The woods right at the edge of Olivine
When: June 15
Summary: Henry is not-totally-willingly absorbed into Team Silent
Rating: PG-13 for discussion of a certain horrible little resort town and profanity probably?
Log:

Henry Townshend was not an outdoorsman. He never had been. He never wanted to be. But he was going to have to learn if he wanted to keep his skin without numbers carved into it. The 'gear conversation with Harry had more than shaken up the photographer. He had moved camp no less than three times, but always settled within sight of the city lights. You know. Bathroom breaks and all that.

These woods with their killer pitcher plants and God knows what else was the LAST place he wanted to be with his pants down.

The sun was starting to come up. He had slept restlessly and knew that damn Hoot Hoot had been watching him. He had to cover up his little fire, count all of his two pokemon to make sure they were still there, and fumble with the map of the area he'd snagged in the Pokemon Center.

Burger, meanwhile, made a pest of himself and wound around Henry's feet, mewling for breakfast.

"Shh, Burger. We'll eat later, okay?" grunted Henry. He was kicking dirt onto the fire and stamping at it. He'd remembered to put his shoes on before doing this, at least. "Promise."

He was sure there were some sort of public showers in town. There had to be--maybe down at the beach to wash the sand off of swimmers. He was starting to look like a wildman.

Ever listen so hard that you can't actually hear what you're listening for? That's what Henry was doing as he strained his ears for...whatever he thought cultists sounded like. Or that unmistakeable, deep laugh and the harsh pok of a pistol...

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Meanwhile, nearby. Harry Mason is out with his daughter, looking through the woods.

"I'm sure he's around here somewhere. Unless I did scare him off. He seemed a little jumpy."

Aaaaand Heather, of course, is picking her way along after him. She had returned to the hotel room at some point after her father had spoken with the mysterious taciturn photographer and been informed that... well, holy crap. He was from home.

"I'm not sure 'jumpy''s the right word... more like terrified of everything... the guy's twitchier than a Mexican jumping bean... and I mean that in a good way!"

After all, now that she knew where the guy was from... the jumpiness kind of made sense.

"Gla'myoooow," complained Burger. He sprang onto his trainer's back and climbed to his spot on the man's shoulder.

"I know, I know." Henry cringed and finished stamping out the last few sparks of the camp fire. The woods were turning orange now and pokemon were waking up, making all kinds of noise.

Well the fire was out. TIME TO COUNT POKEMON. Burger was there. Obviously. He shuffled over to where Clam sat by his sleeping bag and knocked on the pokemon's shell. It opened--but only slightly--and gurgled. Clam was still alive. Awesome.

He didn't like keeping them in their pokeballs unless he was going to be running around. It was lonely way out here. He got along with pokemon (like Sora's bee thing) better than he did with people.

After calling Clam back into his ball he started rolling his bag up, oblivious to his approaching doom. He mumbled to the cat on his shoulder and also to himself. REAL GOOD JOB OF STAYING SILENT AND ELUSIVE THERE, TOWNSHEND.

Next up on Henrys in the Mist...

They continued to walk.

"....do you hear something?" Harry blinked, it had sounded like movement. It could be a wild pokemon but....he nods towards where the rustling was coming from.

"Let's look over there."

Heather paused, halfway through climbing over a fallen log, listening hard. You learned to be good at listening for things after being in the Otherworld. If you weren't, chances were you'd die.

"... Yeah... sounds like voices."

Or... a voice. Talking to itself.

Trying to walk as quietly over the dead leaves littering the forest floor as she could, Heather tip-toed ahead of her father, peering through the trees. ... Oh snap.

"Dad, think we found him...!"

The cat pokemon on Henry's shoulders turned around as his trainer tried to strap the sleeping bag onto his backpack. He wobbled, trying to keep balanced and wrapped his tail around Henry's head.

"...Burger. That is my face."

"Maaow." Burger fluffed himself up and swiveled his huge ears around. >8c He smelled that DOG person.

Harry walked over quietly to where she was looking.

"...Looks like him.

He has a cat on his face."

"... Yep. Yep, he does."

She didn't have the best view in the world, having to peer between some heavy underbrush rising from the forest floor-- but she could see well enough. It was hard to mistake that little blue cat for anything but the creature who'd made her and Cujo fall off that roof.

Fortunately, the dog in question wasn't with them. His scent was still pretty much all OVER Heather, though.

The girl paused for a second, wondering if maybe she should ask her father exactly what he'd planned to do when he encountered this... weird guy who had supposedly also seen the other side of Silent Hill. After all, it had been at Harry's insistence that they go find him in the first place ... But then, because she was Heather and always knew best....

She decided just to push the bushes out of the way and stride right on into Henry's camp.

You know! Because socially awkward guys always appreciate loud people walking in on them without warning!

"Hey! Henry, right?"

When Heather appeared, Burger's eyes became perfect dinner plates. He hissed.

When Heather spoke, Henry almost pitched forward. He caught himself with his hands and quickly wheeled around, shoulders hunched, feet spaced widely apart. His hand twitched. It was empty. It needed something pointed in it to feel at peace. It took a moment before he recognized Roof Girl. He hadn't spotted Harry yet.

"...Yeah?" Just...trying not to wheeze and look like he totally just swallowed a scream. Henry didn't un-tense. He wasn't sure if he could.

Harry tries not to sigh as he walks into view. Heather...

"Sorry for startling you."

Poor, poor Henry.

Heather's not entirely ignorant of the fact that he looks like he just rounded the corner of a hallway only to find a little girl with long black hair covering her face a la Creepy-Little-Sister-of-Cousin-Ogg-Who-Nobody-Talks-About-- but she's never exactly been the most sensitive of folks.

She at least has the decency not to fold her arms and make this look even MORE like they were showing up at his camp to bust him for something.

"This's my dad. He said you've been to Silent Hill."

Henry opened his mouth to ask what she was doing way out here when WILD HARRY MASON APPEARED. The very man he'd been fretting over for days. The photographer's whole stance changed. He swapped from on-edge-because-you-spooked-me to I-HAVE-BEEN-FIGHTING-GIANT-TWO-HEADED-BABIES-DON'T-FUCK-WITH-ME.

It would have been more impressive if he didn't have a cat on his face.

He did pick up a stick though. That counted for something. Whenever he met people who were involved with the Otherworld, bad stuff happened. To them and to HIM. He was scared.

"Yeah?" he repeated. Always the chatterbox, that Henry!

Harry holds his hands up. Well this is going well.

"We're not here to hurt you."

Also you wouldn't last between the two I-HAVE-KILLED-GOD people.

"My daughter and I went to Silent Hill for a vacation...years ago and....well. Things happened there."

Harry Mason you are a writer, use your words.

"....we can talk about it later if you want. Even if you don't take us on the place to stay" Or at least a summarized version would be told, that was a lot of personnel pain in those stories. "But I thought we should at least come and meet you."

Oh. Oh SHIT. HE'S GOT A STICK, GUYS. GAME OVER! GAME OVER!

All the same, Heather seems to realize there's a distinct possibility they might both get whacked by a crazy guy with a piece of tree, so she holds her hands up as well. She remembers seeing Henry clobber things with a fry-basket over the 'Gear network. ... At least now she knows where he probably got that skill.

"Yeah, it was kind of the worst vacation ever."

Vacation. Vacation! How did you even joke about that?

_{Were...they making fun of him?}

The photographer took a step back. If he ran, could they catch him? He didn't think Harry could, but Heather looked spry enough. WHAT IF SHE SHOVED HER HAND THROUGH HIS CHEST?

This is what spending too much time by yourself does to you. You MAKE UP shit to be afraid of. Henry needed bro hugs-- stat!

He took another step back. "How do I know you're not part of that...that cult?"

WHAT IF THEY STILL WANTED THE RECEIVER?

Harry looks over at Heather at that.

"....believe me, that's the last thing we'd be a part of. I'm pretty sure everyone in that cult has been taught to hate me by now."

Heather's brows shot up in surprise at that-- at most, she was maybe expecting this guy to be like James or Angela. They'd seen the less-than-picturesque side of Silent Hill, but hadn't known a thing about the cult. But-- HEY. Maybe this made things easier!

Especially since now they knew that Henry wasn't a part of it, himself.

She spread her arms.

"The cult pretty much ruined our lives. It's like a crazy stalker ex, except we were never part of it to begin with. The only thing I want to do with those freaks is kick their collective asses."

A voice in his head shouted, _{"THAT'S JUST WHAT A CULTIST WOULD SAY!"} but another voice, who was worn out, hungry, and lonely as hell suggested, _{"You know, that girl did commend you on your frybasket skills once."}

Henry passed his stick from one hand to the other and looked at the cat pokemon on his shoulders to see what he thought. Burger didn't say anything. Weren't animals supposed to be sensitive to badness in people?

The photographer's shoulders slowly lowered. He didn't notice how his knees had been shaking. Maybe they wouldn't hurt him. Walter wasn't here. Walter would have killed him in his sleep by now if he was. Maybe they wouldn't burst into flames or show up randomly drowned somewhere if he told them what happened.

"Uhm." He looked at his stick. A stick. Really, Henry? "Sorry..."

Harry just shakes his head.

"That's alright. I'm jumpy around people who seem to know about Silent Hill as well."

He'd spent years hiding from the cult after all. Whenever someone mentioned Silent Hill, even in passing Harry would try not to panic and immediately start trying to figure out if they were a cult member sent after them again.

"But we aren't part of that group. And Heather really wasn't exaggerating when she says they ruined our lives. They did their best to destroy it completely"

Now that they weren't being imminently threatened with the terrifying force that was Henry With a Stick, Heather lowered her hands.

"Yeah. Believe me, they're no friends of ours."

She, too, had shared Harry's paranoia regarding anyone from that town for a time-- but after meeting and befriending James despite initial suspicions, some of that perpetual anxiety (which had been around constantly, buzzing under the surface like low-voltage electric fence) had eased up a little. Not to mention, she'd been here for a year now and not a single cultist had reared their ugly heads... It might have been a false sense of security, considering the way people came and went here, but well, there it was.

"Anyway, we just wanted to... y'know, talk." A pause. "... And... let you know that the hotel is way nicer than... this."

Edited 2011-06-17 15:31 (UTC)

Henry finally tossed his DEADLY WEAPON to the ground and directed his eyes elsewhere when he decided they weren't going to eat him. This was important. These people were important. They Knew stuff. And they weren't on fire.

Them not being on fire was very, very important.

He took a last look around his dumpy little camp before reaching for his backpack. Owls couldn't get you in hotel rooms.

"Okay..." Henry started thinking. Where on earth would he even START? "I thought...I don't know what I thought."

Harry nods with a smile. Yes plan relocate a hobo works.

"She's right, the place is strange but the hotel rooms aren't that bad."

"It's all right. Seriously. Way I see it, people like us should stick together."

And then she thought about apologizing to him again for ... falling on him, but her dad was right there, so... um. She'll just... wait... till later... to do that.

She does wrinkle her nose a little bit, though. It's not the guy's fault, but man, he's kinda stinky.

"Yeah..." Henry sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than agreeing with Heather.

Bag over one shoulder and cat over the other, the Receiver of Wisdom would follow them wherever they led and wouldn't say much on the way there unless asked.

He was busy trying to figure out exactly how to phrase all the strange things that had happened to him. Some of it was blurred. Some of it was out of order in his head. He had started to wonder if it had all been a dream because he woke up in Johto without so much as a bullet hole in him.

And what had happened to them?

And they lead him to the hotel of course. Heather would have to lead the way because Harry is still getting lost around the town and somehow always managed to walk towards a place with coffee or books.

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