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_10652010-10-30 04:29 pm
foolishwren) wrote in route_10652010-10-30 04:29 pm
I HOLD TRUTH LIKE A TORCH-- SHADOWS FLICKER BEFORE ME.
Who: Heather Mason and ANYONE IN GOLDENROD CITY. Anyone.
Where: Goldenrod City
When: In the thick of the Missingo glitching.
Summary: "And this glitch? Basically, the end of the world."
So, weird shit happens in Johto. That much has come to be expected. But everything else at least had an explanation Heather could buy. The Unown and their crystal flood? Crazy haunted stuff from those old Ruins. The nightmarish fog? Turns out ghosts are jerks no matter what world you're in.
This? According to Otacon, it's just the end of the line.
Well, Heather's stopped the end of the world once. Might not be her place to do so again if that's what this is, but at the very least, she doesn't want to go down without a fight. So she's taking to the pixelated streets both in search of others who didn't wind up pixelated monstrosities, AND in search of the missing numbers that caused this.
And guess what? She found a steel pipe.
Rating: PG-13 for language and pixelated violence.
Log:
There was one bonus to this scenario that Heather could think of. It wasn't much, but it was something, and in times like these, somethings were important to keep in mind. They stopped you from going into that disaster mindset where you just curled up in a fetal position somewhere and waited for something to eat you.
That something was that at least this time, she knew where she was, and knew she hadn't gone crazy.
That? Was a comfort.
Unlike on the wet pavement of Silent Hill, where she'd been mentally transported just over a month ago when the delusion-inducing fog had crept across eastern Johto, here Heather's boots made almost no sound against the new floor of the city, which was smooth as tile and covered in bright little squares (pixels?) of light that blinked as they moved soundlessly. It was similar enough to the creeping clotlike things that coated the walls of the Otherworld that it sent little prickles of discomfort through Heather's skin when she thought about it too much, but different enough that it didn't sent that heavy, cloying sense of pure dread that the delusions from a month ago had.
The warped cityscape with its permanent redorangepurple sky seemed almost empty, though that probably had to do with the fact that its usual clamoring crowds and busy population had been turned into still, silent pillars of pixel. Heather... was just trying not to look at them as she walked briskly through the desolate streets. Those gave her the wig way more than the pixels that skittered across the ground like digital mice. In all honesty, the place might have been disturbing but oddly peaceful, if it weren't for the hideously warped music and the far-off screams of the beasts she now knew were drifting around the city. Ghosts and skeletons. Boy, this place really knew how to show its citizens a good weekend.
She'd gone in to work today expecting yet another long, drudging shift of ringing up Pokeballs and pretending to be interested in helping women with way too much time on their hands choose which Pokemon plush to get for their collection. What had happened instead was pretty much the eldritch, computerized equivalent of walking into a classroom, seeing something different and thinking you walked into the wrong room, ashamedly ducking out again while everyone stares at you, and then realizing you were actually in the RIGHT room halfway down the hallway.
The pixel people had kind of thrown her off.
An hour and a half later?
She'd been educated on the Missing Number and told a few unsettling things.
She felt like she should have been shocked by this information-- that this world might well be ending.
But it wasn't the first time she'd had the apocalypse sprung on her like a bad surprise party.
And, well, in rough times, they do say to do what you know.
And the last time this had happened? She'd gone into the heart of the storm.
Fought through the obstacles.
Found the source.
Killed it.
Her Pokemon were back in the hotel room-- no point in going back. This was her kind of situation now-- not the time to conform to this place's weird animal-fighting culture. She'd feel safer fighting for herself, anyway. No uncertainty. You made every move yourself and there was no doubt.
She'd found a chunk of pipe.
It was pixelated like everything else, to the point where when she touched it, she almost expected it to feel fuzzy, like a piece of moldy wood. But it felt like rusted metal to her palms and that was good enough for her. She'd just... avoid looking at it whenever she had to use it and pretend like it looked like the real thing.
Her chances? Probably weren't too good, but... hey. No point in just sitting around, right? She'd rather go down swingin' than just stand and watch the place go all low-res like a cheap jpg. image until it finally just went dark. Or whatever it was that was gonna happen.
It was probably disturbing just how easily she found herself slipping back into the same mindset she'd had the last time she was faced with the end of the world, but she'd just... consider the implications of that later.
If there was a later.
A loud cry rang out from one of the alleys. It was one of those things, all right. Those ratcheting, computerized noises that sounded sort of like a Pac Man game mixed with somebody talking into a fan. It wasn't the same kind of hair-raising noise she was used to that made her skin crawl, but it was unsettling enough for her to know good and well that she didn't like it.
"C'mon out, you creep..." she muttered under her breath, hefting her pixel-pipe and stepping towards the mouth of the alley. Briefly it occurred to her that every time shit like this happened, it usually involved her going into alleyways, but she put that out of her mind. The world had turned into a computer crash personified and she was looking to kick a little ass on account of it.
The mouth of the alley was lit in bars and speckles, which twinkled off into the darkness ahead like little fireflies as she stepped in.
.... And there it was.
Pixels fell from its body like dust as it turned its massive head towards her and regarded her with empty eyesockets, its legs and wings splayed out across the alley to keep it suspended between the two narrow walls. Speckles of color flickered all around its skeletal frame like a bad greenscreen effect.
Heather swallowed.
".... Well, uh. You don't look so tough."
A few white pixels trickled down over its lower jaw and hit the smooth ground with gentle plops. They kind of looked like bird poop to Heather but it was easy enough to tell what they were supposed to be.
She took a step back.
"Tell you what, my friend, if you make even one move to eat me, you are BONED."
Apparently Missingnos did not appreciate witty one-liners. It lunged.
Heather swung.
The not-pipe connected with the creature's thick lower jaw with an impact that was real enough-- she could feel it vibrate up her arm painfully-- but instead of the sharp CHING of metal on bone, there was nothing but a rather flat, 8-bit DONK noise.
"Oh, come ON..." Talk about anticlimactic...
She didn't have time to be disappointed, though, because the thing had come down to rest on the floor with a jingle and was now staring at her in a way that distinctly said, despite its empty eyesockets, that it was pissed off.
Suddenly the pipe didn't seem like such a great weapon in such an enclosed space like this anymore.
.... Nnnnkay, time for plan B.
"Hope you can run, bitch!"
~*~TIME FOR A BRISK JOG AROUND THE CITY~*~
[ooc: Others can encounter her being chased, encounter her actually FIGHTING one or more of these things, or-- pretty much anything. Feel free to help her out, distract her, yell at her for being reckless, fight her yourself (if that's how you roll), whatever. LET'S PLAY.]
Where: Goldenrod City
When: In the thick of the Missingo glitching.
Summary: "And this glitch? Basically, the end of the world."
So, weird shit happens in Johto. That much has come to be expected. But everything else at least had an explanation Heather could buy. The Unown and their crystal flood? Crazy haunted stuff from those old Ruins. The nightmarish fog? Turns out ghosts are jerks no matter what world you're in.
This? According to Otacon, it's just the end of the line.
Well, Heather's stopped the end of the world once. Might not be her place to do so again if that's what this is, but at the very least, she doesn't want to go down without a fight. So she's taking to the pixelated streets both in search of others who didn't wind up pixelated monstrosities, AND in search of the missing numbers that caused this.
And guess what? She found a steel pipe.
Rating: PG-13 for language and pixelated violence.
Log:
There was one bonus to this scenario that Heather could think of. It wasn't much, but it was something, and in times like these, somethings were important to keep in mind. They stopped you from going into that disaster mindset where you just curled up in a fetal position somewhere and waited for something to eat you.
That something was that at least this time, she knew where she was, and knew she hadn't gone crazy.
That? Was a comfort.
Unlike on the wet pavement of Silent Hill, where she'd been mentally transported just over a month ago when the delusion-inducing fog had crept across eastern Johto, here Heather's boots made almost no sound against the new floor of the city, which was smooth as tile and covered in bright little squares (pixels?) of light that blinked as they moved soundlessly. It was similar enough to the creeping clotlike things that coated the walls of the Otherworld that it sent little prickles of discomfort through Heather's skin when she thought about it too much, but different enough that it didn't sent that heavy, cloying sense of pure dread that the delusions from a month ago had.
The warped cityscape with its permanent redorangepurple sky seemed almost empty, though that probably had to do with the fact that its usual clamoring crowds and busy population had been turned into still, silent pillars of pixel. Heather... was just trying not to look at them as she walked briskly through the desolate streets. Those gave her the wig way more than the pixels that skittered across the ground like digital mice. In all honesty, the place might have been disturbing but oddly peaceful, if it weren't for the hideously warped music and the far-off screams of the beasts she now knew were drifting around the city. Ghosts and skeletons. Boy, this place really knew how to show its citizens a good weekend.
She'd gone in to work today expecting yet another long, drudging shift of ringing up Pokeballs and pretending to be interested in helping women with way too much time on their hands choose which Pokemon plush to get for their collection. What had happened instead was pretty much the eldritch, computerized equivalent of walking into a classroom, seeing something different and thinking you walked into the wrong room, ashamedly ducking out again while everyone stares at you, and then realizing you were actually in the RIGHT room halfway down the hallway.
The pixel people had kind of thrown her off.
An hour and a half later?
She'd been educated on the Missing Number and told a few unsettling things.
She felt like she should have been shocked by this information-- that this world might well be ending.
But it wasn't the first time she'd had the apocalypse sprung on her like a bad surprise party.
And, well, in rough times, they do say to do what you know.
And the last time this had happened? She'd gone into the heart of the storm.
Fought through the obstacles.
Found the source.
Killed it.
Her Pokemon were back in the hotel room-- no point in going back. This was her kind of situation now-- not the time to conform to this place's weird animal-fighting culture. She'd feel safer fighting for herself, anyway. No uncertainty. You made every move yourself and there was no doubt.
She'd found a chunk of pipe.
It was pixelated like everything else, to the point where when she touched it, she almost expected it to feel fuzzy, like a piece of moldy wood. But it felt like rusted metal to her palms and that was good enough for her. She'd just... avoid looking at it whenever she had to use it and pretend like it looked like the real thing.
Her chances? Probably weren't too good, but... hey. No point in just sitting around, right? She'd rather go down swingin' than just stand and watch the place go all low-res like a cheap jpg. image until it finally just went dark. Or whatever it was that was gonna happen.
It was probably disturbing just how easily she found herself slipping back into the same mindset she'd had the last time she was faced with the end of the world, but she'd just... consider the implications of that later.
If there was a later.
A loud cry rang out from one of the alleys. It was one of those things, all right. Those ratcheting, computerized noises that sounded sort of like a Pac Man game mixed with somebody talking into a fan. It wasn't the same kind of hair-raising noise she was used to that made her skin crawl, but it was unsettling enough for her to know good and well that she didn't like it.
"C'mon out, you creep..." she muttered under her breath, hefting her pixel-pipe and stepping towards the mouth of the alley. Briefly it occurred to her that every time shit like this happened, it usually involved her going into alleyways, but she put that out of her mind. The world had turned into a computer crash personified and she was looking to kick a little ass on account of it.
The mouth of the alley was lit in bars and speckles, which twinkled off into the darkness ahead like little fireflies as she stepped in.
.... And there it was.
Pixels fell from its body like dust as it turned its massive head towards her and regarded her with empty eyesockets, its legs and wings splayed out across the alley to keep it suspended between the two narrow walls. Speckles of color flickered all around its skeletal frame like a bad greenscreen effect.
Heather swallowed.
".... Well, uh. You don't look so tough."
A few white pixels trickled down over its lower jaw and hit the smooth ground with gentle plops. They kind of looked like bird poop to Heather but it was easy enough to tell what they were supposed to be.
She took a step back.
"Tell you what, my friend, if you make even one move to eat me, you are BONED."
Apparently Missingnos did not appreciate witty one-liners. It lunged.
Heather swung.
The not-pipe connected with the creature's thick lower jaw with an impact that was real enough-- she could feel it vibrate up her arm painfully-- but instead of the sharp CHING of metal on bone, there was nothing but a rather flat, 8-bit DONK noise.
"Oh, come ON..." Talk about anticlimactic...
She didn't have time to be disappointed, though, because the thing had come down to rest on the floor with a jingle and was now staring at her in a way that distinctly said, despite its empty eyesockets, that it was pissed off.
Suddenly the pipe didn't seem like such a great weapon in such an enclosed space like this anymore.
.... Nnnnkay, time for plan B.
"Hope you can run, bitch!"
~*~TIME FOR A BRISK JOG AROUND THE CITY~*~
[ooc: Others can encounter her being chased, encounter her actually FIGHTING one or more of these things, or-- pretty much anything. Feel free to help her out, distract her, yell at her for being reckless, fight her yourself (if that's how you roll), whatever. LET'S PLAY.]
no subject
The first couple of blows hit, drawing surprised growls, but after that she ducked around them, and avoided the leg sweep completely by jumping-- HAH. Saw THAT coming!
As her feet hit the ground again, she sprung off once more immediately, trying to take advantage of the momentum of the leg-sweep to bull straight into him with surprising force.
no subject
Her last tactic made him grin and he had the barest split second to decide whether to brace against the attack--he knew he could--or go with it and use her momentum against her. He decided on the latter, and came out of the leg sweep in what looked for all the world like a really awkward stance, but when she bulled into him proved effective for what he was planning. He rolled back, grabbing onto her with his good hand and trying to bring his knee up into her stomach to flip her over.
no subject
Though in this case, a bit of planning probably could have served her well, because she fell into that trap hook, line and sinker. Eyes widening as the world suddenly turned upside-down, she let out a bark of surprise before hitting the thankfully-smooth ground on her back.
"... Ow."
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"Nicely done, avoiding that sweep. But intuition isn't always reliable."
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Nah, she didn't think Kisame would hurt her. But let's just say she does not like being pinned, 'least not by someone she still doesn't know too closely. BUT, at least this was just just a spar-- she could deal. Still wanted out of it though.
Gritting her teeth, Heather slammed her elbows against the ground and set to trying to writhe her way out of his grip-- this was where her experience would probably shine more than anywhere else, because she was good at this. When the alternative was dying (or possibly worse), as it was in Silent Hill, you learned how to escape from tight situations like that pretty quickly.
"S'served me pretty well for the most part, though--!"
no subject
"It has, but intuition under guidance would serve you even better."
no subject
Thanks, slurpers. Thanks.She sat up as soon as he was off of her, brushing off her vest nonchalantly.
"Yeah? Whose guidance would you recommend?"
As casual as she sounded, the funny truth was that she had quite a few VERY appropriate examples around to learn from. And taking advantage of that had crossed her mind more than once.
no subject
After a moment he reached down to give her a hand up, relaxed as he ever was. "You're right though, having someone who's had training in combat will help you--or hurt you. It all depends on the kind of combat they've learned, and how it meshes with your own style. And how good they are at teaching, eh? At your level, learning from the beginning would be pointless. You'd need someone who can adapt what they know to what you know."
Kisame wasn't going to offer himself--it never crossed his mind. He had never considered himself as even potentially able to teach anyone, not until very recently. He wasn't even aware that the way he'd adjusted during the spar was potentially good for teaching. His only thought had been to make it more fun and challenging, and a one-hit KO or similarly short spar wasn't, in his opinion.
no subject
"Well, I've got some friends who I could stand to learn a few things from."
Between the Solid and Liquid Snakes, she had more or less a whole wealth of combat knowledge at her disposal-- even if theirs was military and hers came straight from the street. Still, some things carried over no matter how you fought. And Snake had already taught her a thing or two about stealth.
"Maybe I should start gettin' lessons." She said it half-jokingly, but the notion wasn't a bad one. Maybe when-- ... if Otacon was wrong and this was not the end of the world-- she'd ask one-- or both of them, to show her some tricks.
"If I do, we gotta spar again. To show how I'll be able to totally kick your ass."
Because the learning opportunities inherent in the little 'fight' they'd just had were not lost on her. Even if she wasn't about to ask directly, she sure as hell wasn't above taking advantage of those too.
no subject
He laughed at her assertion of kicking his ass. He didn't doubt that she was capable--at least while he was without his chakra--of rising to his level, but he also knew the time and training it would probably take. "I look forward to it! And once you do, maybe I'll show you how to handle a sword."
He was a swordsman, first and foremost, and they didn't call him the strongest of the seven for nothing. He'd handled just about every type of sword intimately since he'd been young, even if his specialty was the type of great sword his comrades were known for.
no subject
If they ever wound up in a real, knock-down drag-out fight (not that she figured they WOULD), Heather could tell she'd probably be better off putting her OTHER main skill to use-- running the hell away.
"I know a little about that already, actually. Got a katana at home." It was just a weapon to her, nothing like the heart and soul that most warriors considered their weapons, but she spoke of it fondly anywway. "That baby's gotten me out of some tight spots, lemme tell ya."
no subject
"You do, eh? Now that's a skill I'd be better able to judge." Kisame grinned, a little fondly. "A sword has advantages and disadvantages, but it's still the weapon I'd choose first, every time. Of course, as one of the seven, that's a given!"
He still considered himself one of the seven, even as a missing-nin. Though, since most of the seven had defected at one point or another being a missing-nin or not didn't really matter.
no subject
"I wound up going with a shotgun more often than not, but that sword really came in handy." In fact, despite the fact that firepower had probably done more in terms of carving a swathe through the numerous enemies she'd had to take down, she'd probably say the blade was her favorite. It... kind of reminded her of Dad, to be honest. "What're the seven?"
no subject
It wasn't said in a cocky way, but he was still proud to have been good enough.
no subject
~*~SUPER SPECIFIC~*~
"Sounds pretty lofty. So are you some kind of famous warrior where you come from or what?"
no subject
Kisame was smiling but it slowly faded after hearing her question. He didn't want to lie to her, but he...kind of liked being friendly with her and he was a terrible criminal. On the other hand Minnie found out everything and still insisted on being friends--he still didn't get that--so maybe...
"No, not famous. Infamous, maybe. Several of the seven are wanted criminals now, and I'm no exception."
If he seemed like he was waiting for her to run, or attack, or something, it was because he was.
no subject
Her brows went up, sure. But otherwise? She looked... surprisingly unaffected.
It wasn't too surprising if you knew that she was friends with a slightly disturbed supersoldier and a wanted environmental terrorist. And a world-infamous jewel thief.
And didn't exactly have a squeaky-clean record, herself.
"... M'guessing it's for something pretty bad, then, huh?"
no subject
"I assassinated a Daimyou and tried to overthrow the government. Mist is very adamant about taking care of traitors--and yet refused to change what made them for so long--and I have a kill-on-sight order on my head. It was close to a decade ago now." He didn't elaborate on what that meant; he figured she was smart enough to realize what it meant.
no subject
"... I'm sorry."
She said this mainly because he didn't sound too happy about it.
"Sounds like you've had a rough time of it."
She was being... er, WEIRDLY ACCEPTING of a confessed killer. Maybe that said something about her.
Or maybe it said something about the kind of story she had.
no subject
Others thought he'd joined Akatsuki out of spite, but that wasn't really true--just a facade for their sakes. It was partly at Madara's urging--the world of truth was his goal and had been since Madara had told him about it. "Rough, maybe, but I never didn't have a choice."
Half the time, the other option had been death, but it was still a choice.
no subject
She didn't know what his world was like, after all... What she did know was that sometimes things needed to be overthrown.
"Not like I've got a squeaky clean record, either."
She brushed off her vest again, though it didn't really need it.
no subject
Quick, time for a subject change! "I wonder how long it will remain like this. I don't like that none of my squad will leave their balls or even acknowledge me."
no subject
And that, in turn, was all Heather would say about that.
She shrugged her bare shoulders, looking around at the pixelated landscape. Her expression suggested that she didn't like it, either. And she didn't.
"I don't know. ... My friend says it might be the end of the world."
no subject
Kisame looked around too and shrugged, "It's just a little tame for the end of the world, eh? Disturbing, but it's been stable since everything changed; I haven't noticed things getting worse."
no subject
That sends a ghostly smile onto Heather's face.
"Yeah. I can see that."
That mouse had surprised the hell out of Heather with her strength. And now the teen was just a little more willing to take 'cartoons' seriously... because how could she not?
At Kisame's observation, she nodded.
"Yeah. In my experience, apocalypses tend to be a steady descent downhill into you-know-where."
Her tone said that she was joking or being wry, but... well, it was actually the truth. Heather was what you could call a bit of an expert on apocalypses. Seeing as she'd been the inadvertent cause of two. And the savior of one of them.
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