Heather Mason (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
foolishwren) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
route_10652010-08-22 12:51 am
foolishwren) wrote in route_10652010-08-22 12:51 am
Entry tags:
When out of the bayou came a man like the lake had a tongue....
Who: Heather, the other people searching for Kay, and anyone else in the area. Characters can already be there, or be just stumbling in after a long day of scouring the woods and rubble. (In other words, it's ~*~Open~*~)
Where: The clearing just outside the Ruins of Alph.
When: After sunset.
Summary: It's been a long few days for everybody. Between all the fighting and all the worrying, exhaustion's rampant, especially among the people who stayed by the Ruins of Alph for various reasons. And with the light rapidly fading, the smart option is to bring all wandering to a close and turn in. After all, the labyrinthine Ruins are dangerously easy to get lost in, and the woods all around aren't exactly much better. Not to mention, with the wind moaning through the ancient stone structures and the nighttime Pokemon cries starting to get louder off in the thickets, it's... pretty darn creepy to be out wandering around. Gosh, good thing some of the people hanging around have a nice, wimpy little campfire going for the night! Anyone got marshmallows? No?
Rating: G. Should anyone decide that sharing a really gory campfire story will improve everybody else's lives, that may go up.
Log:
There's something really primal about the act of sitting out in the wilderness next to a crackling fire, with the stars above. Gets you back to your roots and stuff.
Not, of course, that it's something you get to experience on any old camping trip with screaming younger siblings running around or Cousin Beatrice whining about not being able to check Facebook or whatever.
But here, it was different.
There were no nearby highways to pollute the sounds of nature, no boomboxes, cell phones, or anything. No reassuring city lights visible through the trees. Not even tents.
Just the wind, making the branches creak and slowly whistling through the towering stone structures past the edge of the clearings.
Frazzled, filthy, and feeling sort of like she'd been used as a DDR mat by an army of overenthusiastic people all wearing cleats, Heather sat several feet away from the (embarrassingly-small in comparison to the darkness all around) fire in the middle of the clearing, with her chin on her knees and her eyes half-shut, staring into it while she turned the odd, shiny yellow-orange stone she'd found earlier over and over in her hands. It caught the firelight in a particularly striking manner, and she couldn't really decide whether it was pretty or just disconcerting somehow.
It had been a long, long few days of lots of yelling, climbing, running, fighting, finding people, rendezvousing, and most importantly, not sleeping. She was pretty sure there wasn't an inch of her that didn't ache. On either side of her, Cujo the Growlithe and Arty the Furret were sprawled out like fur rugs, completely dead to the world. This course of action seemed like a pretty good idea, actually, but as exhausted as she was, something just wouldn't let her sleep.
She wasn't sure if it was just the scrapes and crunches of other people milling around the sandy clearing keeping her awake, or if it was the fact that something about all the darkened doorways in this eerie place just sent chills down her spine every so often.
... On second thought, maybe that was it.
With a puff, she got up and moved to the other side of the fire so that her back was no longer facing those freaking ruins.
... There. Much better.
Where: The clearing just outside the Ruins of Alph.
When: After sunset.
Summary: It's been a long few days for everybody. Between all the fighting and all the worrying, exhaustion's rampant, especially among the people who stayed by the Ruins of Alph for various reasons. And with the light rapidly fading, the smart option is to bring all wandering to a close and turn in. After all, the labyrinthine Ruins are dangerously easy to get lost in, and the woods all around aren't exactly much better. Not to mention, with the wind moaning through the ancient stone structures and the nighttime Pokemon cries starting to get louder off in the thickets, it's... pretty darn creepy to be out wandering around. Gosh, good thing some of the people hanging around have a nice, wimpy little campfire going for the night! Anyone got marshmallows? No?
Rating: G. Should anyone decide that sharing a really gory campfire story will improve everybody else's lives, that may go up.
Log:
There's something really primal about the act of sitting out in the wilderness next to a crackling fire, with the stars above. Gets you back to your roots and stuff.
Not, of course, that it's something you get to experience on any old camping trip with screaming younger siblings running around or Cousin Beatrice whining about not being able to check Facebook or whatever.
But here, it was different.
There were no nearby highways to pollute the sounds of nature, no boomboxes, cell phones, or anything. No reassuring city lights visible through the trees. Not even tents.
Just the wind, making the branches creak and slowly whistling through the towering stone structures past the edge of the clearings.
Frazzled, filthy, and feeling sort of like she'd been used as a DDR mat by an army of overenthusiastic people all wearing cleats, Heather sat several feet away from the (embarrassingly-small in comparison to the darkness all around) fire in the middle of the clearing, with her chin on her knees and her eyes half-shut, staring into it while she turned the odd, shiny yellow-orange stone she'd found earlier over and over in her hands. It caught the firelight in a particularly striking manner, and she couldn't really decide whether it was pretty or just disconcerting somehow.
It had been a long, long few days of lots of yelling, climbing, running, fighting, finding people, rendezvousing, and most importantly, not sleeping. She was pretty sure there wasn't an inch of her that didn't ache. On either side of her, Cujo the Growlithe and Arty the Furret were sprawled out like fur rugs, completely dead to the world. This course of action seemed like a pretty good idea, actually, but as exhausted as she was, something just wouldn't let her sleep.
She wasn't sure if it was just the scrapes and crunches of other people milling around the sandy clearing keeping her awake, or if it was the fact that something about all the darkened doorways in this eerie place just sent chills down her spine every so often.
... On second thought, maybe that was it.
With a puff, she got up and moved to the other side of the fire so that her back was no longer facing those freaking ruins.
... There. Much better.
herp derp :T
Well... yeah, it was. The rustling was almost immediately followed by a swift, unnaturally cool breeze.
SOMETHING IS COMING.
OH SNAP
But then the cool breeze slipped into the clearing, making the fire waver and dragging goosebumps out of the skin of her bare shoulders. Making a sort of displeased sound under her breath, she hunched her shoulders up and looked over her shoulder at the dark trees behind her.
Nnnno. Screw that, it was just a breeze.
....
Just to be sure, she reached out, grabbed a rock roughly the size of a baseball, and set it down beside herself meaningfully with a crunch of sand.
8O commence pants-shitting, heather.
..Wait for it...
And ... cue the fog.
It rolled in just as suddenly as the breeze had blown by, thick as the wind was cold and as soundless as a grave site.
How about a -very girly squeal-?
Then, nothing.
Nothing but pale wetness EVERYWHERE.
Did this bring back pleasant memories?
Oh, HELL no.
Later Heather would deny it, but her first reaction was a high-pitched noise that was downright embarrassing, even for a teenage girl. Grabbing up the rock, she was on her feet so quickly that she almost fell over them, eyes widening in a futile, instinct-throwback attempt to see better in the fog.
No. No. This was not happening, not here. Not. Here.
A few feet away, there was a started yowp from the awakened Cujo, as his sleeping ears harkened to his master's voice and he proceeded to stomp all over Arty in the process.
8O!
In fact... it was an excited-looking Dragonair that slipped silently into view first, followed shortly by her very lost-looking trainer. Zack stumbled along, his arms out in front of him as he squinted, trying to navigate around in the low visibility.
"... Damnit, Angela ... This isn't funny, alright?"
Wussat? Oh. It's a tree. Hello, tree. Meet Zack Fair and his face.
"--gnhh! Ix-nay on the ist-may already!"
8U!!!
The only thing that stopped her?
... The sound of Zack Faire walking straight into a tree.
Stumbling backwards in the sand, she spun around in the direction of that noise and was already cocking her arm back to throw when she caught-- ... Pig Latin?
Monsters definitely did not use Pig Latin.
"... Zack? .... Oh."
HI THERE ANGIE.
TADAA B; ... guess whose pokemon just learned that it can control the weather.
Just give him a second to, um... get his bearings here. Alright. That is a tree. A little to the left... Good. No trees to his left where the familiar voice was coming from. So he started off in that direction, hands first.
"...Heather? Is that you? Keep talkin', alright?"
... Meanwhile. Angie had stumbled upon Cujo, who she greeted by bumping him affectionately with the warm glow of her horn.
ASKLGFSDLG;G FOG ASLGLD'FG;DG;
"Y- ... yeah, it's me. Jesus, did all this.... fog come from Angie?"
NO 'HI HOW ARE YOU ZACK', HEATHER JUST CAN'T... FOCUS ON ANYTHING ELSE UNTIL THAT FOG IS GONE, 'K?
Cujo, who had been snuffling excitedly at the fog, completely oblivious to his trainer's distress, responded to Angie's greeting by panting excitedly and trying to lick every inch of her face because it was GLOWING and REMINDED HIM OF ICE CREAM.
Arty, meanwhile, had grown quite a bit since the last time Angie had seen her. Raccoon Thing had become Deathweasel. She edged out from underneath the puppy and raised up on her hind legs with a chitter. She recognized Angie!
no subject
"Huh... Yeah, it did... She's been a wise-ass about it, obviously. What're you doin' out here, anyways?"
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Heather was no fan of fire but y'know, as long as it was under CONTROL she was fine with it. ... She liked it better than FOG, at least. Shivering, Heather crossed her arms.
"No offense or anything, but can she get rid of it? Like, real fast? And uh--..."
She headed back over to the fire as well, where it was at least burning some of that fog off.
"Looking for somebody, actually."
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"... Sorry, Heather. Uh... Who're we lookin' for, exactly?"
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"Thanks. It's no problem, I just like being able to see three feet in front of me when I'm out in the wilderness at night."
Not that it was the total wilderness or anything, there were those little lab shacks around and stuff, but... yeah.
"And uh... Kay. She's... well. Someone from Team Rocket kidnapped her... or so we suspect." She doesn't sound too perky as she says that, for obvious reasons. Putting the rock down next to her, she folded her hands in her lap. "So a bunch of us are sticking around here and trying to find her."
And Cujo was sticking around Angie and tying to eat her feathery ears. With love. <3
no subject
Waving away a bit of smoke before moving upwind, he plopped down in the sand and watched she and Cujo wrestle about. One much more gently than the other, of course.
"Kay? Faraday? ... I thought Team Rocket was too stupid to pull off something serious like that." And especially to somebody like Kay... Not that he was especially well-acquainted with her, but from what he had seen of her on the 'Gear, she didn't exactly seem like the helpless type.
no subject
"S'kinda what a lot of people thought... but somehow they managed to piss off those flying letters enough to cause... well. That."
Zack would've had to have been blind to have completely missed the crystal flood.
"So they've gotta be a little more... with it than I guess everyone thought they were."
Arty had sniffed huffily and trundled off to sit on the other side of Heather, with a face that could more or less be described as BC Cujo, on the other hand, was rolling around and snapping at Angie, paws flailing. Because he was a derp.
no subject
He caught the flood alright ... but he was still a little reluctant to believe those bumbling idiots could have been capable of the mass-chaos... but, then again... something had to cause it.
Angela gave a shrill screech from time to time, all wound up by the play-fighting and egging on her old derp friend with the occasional spark of blue flames.
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Now that Heather thought of it, she really didn't know. But... what else could have caused it? If it was just some... normal occurrence, the police would've been equipped to handle it, right? ... But then, they did seem pretty incompetent to Heather...
Cujo joined the noisemaking by yapping incessantly and doing that... weird snort/grunt thing that dogs do sometimes when they're really worked up.
lmao cujo xD
Kidnappings.
Inhaling slowly, he was suddenly very, very interested in where his girlfriend might be and his pocket became quite heavy with the weight of the 'Gear.
Maybe Cujo wanted a hug. Dogs like hugs after all. One coil was looped over him lazily before Angela drew him closer and bumped her nose against his affectionately.
DERP PUPPY LOVES YOU.
Cujo was just delighted to have a playmate. He couldn't really play with Arty without getting his face scratched off, and Heather's other Pokemon were too small and delicate for him to roll around in the dirt with. He wriggled with glee and attempted to coat Angela's snout in slobber.
Eventually he'd probably try and wriggle free to assault Zack. Oh yes, he remembered the soldier. EPIC PLAYMATE BUDDY.
no subject
"I'll keep an eye out for 'er, too. That's the least I can do. ... You don't think they're gonna make a habit outta this, do you? I mean, they haven't made any demands, right?"
... MEANWHILE,
AT THE HALL OF JUSTICEAngela sneezed at the moisture and angrily headbutted Cujo for his trouble.no subject
LOLOL-- HEY OW, WAIT, OW. D8 THIS WAS NOT FUN ANYMORE. Still trying to lick Angela anyway, Cujo tried to squeeze free of the Dragonair's coils. If he succeeded? ... Yeah he'd be going over there to maul Zack. With love.
no subject
Well, right around that time, Angela decided that she'd had her fill off omgpuppyloev... and promptly dropped Cujo and stuck her still-moist nose in the air.
... Zack suspected nothing.
no subject
Heather didn't even really have a chance to warn Zack before Cujo just kind of... ran him over. And started trying to invade his ears with a cold, wet nose.