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The Wren,

with pure heart as yet unrefined,
Makes us laugh with his feeble lip-smacking,
But still we all know he shall never grow old
And knows not how much he is lacking.

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[ACTION]

[You know what makes a good alarm clock on Christmas morning? ... Besides small children? ... DOGS.]

[There was once a time when a Christmas with the Masons involved Heather using her father's bed as a trampoline. But by this point, she's more interested in sleeping in. You know, in general. But that's hard to do with Pokemon around.]


Ugh, Cooj-- have you been eating the old socks at the bottom of my bag again...?

[Shoving the Growlithe's blunt muzzle away from her face, she sits up in bed. Most of the other Pokemon (those that are out of their balls) are still asleep, but THAT DOESN'T STOP CUJO OF COURSE. He drops something slobbery in her lap and then shuffles backwards on her bed, rumpling up the blankets in the process. She flaps a hand at him, rubbing her eyes.]

C'mon, boy, you're acting like it's Christmas or someth-- ....

[OH.]

...

[She looks down at him briefly.]

... Okay, go wake up everybody else.

[Half the time what she tells him to do seems to go in one shaggy ear and out the other, but she doesn't need to tell him to do that twice. As he leaps off the bed in an explosion of happy panting, she finally turns her attention to the object he dropped in her lap.]

... My flashlight?


[VIDEO]

[Has anyone ever wanted to see live footage of somebody trying to strap one of those dog backpacks to a Growlithe that won't hold still?]

[Well, anyone checking out the network around lunchtime on Christmas Day will get to watch the Adventures of a Hapless Trainer and Her Hyperactive Dog for awhile as Heather tries unsuccessfully to get one of those things on him for about twenty minutes, outside in the snow.]

[After lots of yelling, falling down, and a brief period of getting dragged around (he's big enough to do that by this point...) she loses her grip and he eventually runs off with the damn thing half-fastened. Probably gonna lose it in a snowbank somewhere. Picking herself up, with a grumble, she takes back the PokeGear from whoever had been filming this charming home video (probably Harry or Henry) and shakes her head.]


Man, last time I get Cujo a Christmas present. Ungrateful mutt... [She looks out at the orange dot that is Cujo, clearly visible in the far-off snowy landscape, and waves dismissively.] He'll be back when I start giving treats to all the others.

ANYWAY, uh...

[Turning back to the screen, she swipes a hand under her nose briefly. It's been running in the cold.]

So, Merry Christmas, everyone!

Haven't opened all the gifts yet, but uh, thanks to everyone who sent stuff for us. ... Hope all of mine got through, I kinda mailed some of 'em last minute...

[OH WELL. Shrug. They'd get there sooner or later.]

I'd better go make sure Cooj doesn't lose that thing in a ditch or something, it cost good money. Later!

[BLIP.]


[OOC: For Ecruteak action, feel free to encounter Heather wandering around town later! She'll be trying to hunt down the friends of hers who are in town so that she can hand them their Christmas swag in person.]

[ALSO feel free to assume your character got their present from Heather, if you haven't already seen the list! I don't think I forgot anybody...]

85. [Accidental Video]

[The shaggy, retreating backside of a panting Growlithe trotting through the snow and a view of worn, upside-down brown boots tromping along hurriedly after him is the first thing to greet the screen. Accompanying the hurried crunch-squeak of footsteps through good fresh snow is Heather's aggravated voice.]

COOJ!

Cujo!

Come on, it's COLD! Don't pull this. I will skin y-- COOJ!

[The 'Gear probably bumped against her leg or something and came on by accident-- cue SHAKYCAM dog chase! Up ahead, Cujo stops briefly and whirls gleefully in the snow to face his trainer. Instantly the cause of his flight is seen-- he's got one of her gloves in his mouth and clearly decided that now would be a great time to play Keepaway. He pauses briefly with his rump in the air and tail wagging slowly-- only to turn tail and go gallumphing off through the snow again as soon as Heather (and the camera) get close enough to try and make a grab.]

[Heather curses viciously under her breath and the chase begins again, complete with hollered threats.]

[... But eventually the angry yells of 'I AM GOING TO TURN YOU INTO A TIGER-SKIN RUG AND THEN HENRY WILL SLEEP ON YOU' trail off and are replaced by a brief, uncertain silence, followed by an alarmed-sounding tone.]


Wh-- Cooj-- ... No.

[The motion had stopped briefly, but it quickly picks up again as Heather breaks into a sprint.]

Nononononononono COOJ! Don't!

[In the midst of all the shakiness, the 'Gear shifts just long enough to show what Heather is apparently so upset about-- and that is Cujo's creamy tail far ahead disappearing into a building-- a hulking, charred, broken building. The Burned Tower. Or what was left of it, anyway...]

[Out of breath, Heather pauses when she reaches the slight plateau the tower's foundations sit on, briefly wheeling to look back down the hill at the town below, then back at the dark entrance. Waffling between going in or just yelling for Cujo at the doorway.]


... God dammit... COOJ!

[She steps through the doorway and into the dark interior of the building. Now that the camera's not shaking all over the place, she's holding it up for the sake of illumination, turning slowly in place to take in the charred walls around her. There's shafts of light cutting through the broken areas up top, and snowflakes drift down in the breeze like ashes.]

... God this place is creepy... My kingdom for a flashlight... Cuuuujoooo... c'mon, boy, where are you?

[The wood creaks underfoot as she steps forward. The place has that eerie silence that only ruined places have, and is it sorta freaking Heather out? You bet. Her voice takes on a singsong tone to distract herself from the smell of the burnt wood.]

Cuuujoooooo... if you come out, I'll give you all my leftover beef jerrrkyyyy...

... Or one of Henry's shoooooes?

... C'mon, mutt, I can HEAR you panting somewhere over there, just c'mon ou--


[... And then there is an ominous groan immediately followed by an EXPLOSIVE crackling of wood and a startled holler. The visual is immediately replaced by darkness, and a THUD signals an abrupt meeting with the ground.]

[Accompanied by the pitter-patter of falling splinters and dusty, Heather sits up, coughing and holding up the 'Gear again.]


UGH... hell...

[A bright hole above her (which she apparently just CREATED) swivels into view as she aims the 'Gear upwards. A familiar orange canine head pops into view over the edge of the hole still with the stolen glove in his mouth.]


... I am SO not getting you anything for Christmas.


[There's a hollow thumping noise as his tail whacks against the floor above and Cujo promptly drops the glove down the hole. It hits the screen and bounces off, hitting the floor. Heather reaches out and picks it up, giving it a shake.]

Great. Thanks. That is super helpful. Really.

You're like Lassie.

What would I do without you-- oh crap.

[In the classic tradition of shaky-cam horror movies everywhere, there was a noise somewhere off-camera (a low, crackling rumble of sorts) and immediately the view whipped around-- showing a brief flash of something off in the darkness coming around a corner. Something lizardlike and fiery. Then the feed cuts.]




[ooc: Video responses will take place an hour or so after the feed, from a slightly singed-looking Heather.]

[OOC] Christmas Gift list, 2011 edition!

Heather got a job pretty much solely so that she could scrape together enough cash to afford presents (...since last year she'd relied mainly on the money she picked up and failed to give back to the Department Store from Joker's Goldenrod robbery), so HERE WE GO.
Much like last year, Heather made an effort to keep things more or less practical and easy to carry around-- gotta stay light for travel, of course. The exceptions are for the friends of her who she knows has settled down with an actual place of residence, like Rise or Ken and Miles.

Gifts FOR others!Collapse )

Gifts FROM others!Collapse )

Trigger my memory::

[Another day, another long shift at work. Heather doesn't really mind, though. It's one hell of a difference between the hectic stress of the job in the department store that she had last year. What a difference having SANE bosses can make, even if the job is more boring.]

[As the morning sun creeps higher behind the snowclouds and lights up the powder drifting down from the sky, Heather is seated at one of the stools behind the counter in the diner where she now works, and is making herself incredibly useful by balancing all the salt-shakers she can find on top of one another.]

[And then putting all those little sealed packets of sliced cheese she can find on top of THOSE.]

[It's a quiet morning, okay? Leave her alone!]

[Needless to say, one of the owners of the diner-- an old married couple-- spots his newest employee working on the Leaning Tower of Cheesa and just sort of shakes his head, sighing. Kids these days.]


Miss Mason, as much as I hate to stifle the budding artist in you, the soda machines need cleaning.

[Heather heaves an enormously-dramatic mock sigh as she gets up.]

Ugh, finnneeee. You're just jealous of my deeply creative spirit.

You got me. I'm turning green. Dish-soap should be in the back.

[Having chill bosses is AWESOME. Heather had decided she liked having bosses she could banter with almost as soon as she got the job. She sticks her tongue out at him as she passes, on her way to the back door. And then she has an idea!]

[Pulling out her 'Gear, she hits the network button.]


HEY GUYS. Who wants to watch me CLEAN SHIT?

[Because clearly if she had to do boring things, it would improve everybody else's lives to watch her do them.]

[But behind her, the boss clears his throat meaningfully, and Heather rolls her eyes.]




Oh, that's just Danny!



[OOC: COME AT ME BROS. Feel free to assume that Heather is elsewhere if you don't feel like dealing with Danny-- 4th Wall is like CRACK: THE EVENT, so I'm happy to stick her wherever.]

83. [Video/Action for Ecruteak]

[You guys.]

[You guys.]

[It is so cold outside.]

[No, seriously, it's bitter and the snow's been building up and for the towns up north like Mahogany and Ecruteak, the snow is rooooollin' in.]

[But unlike last year, when Heather pretty much spent the first snows of the season filming her Pokemon skidding around on the streets of Goldenrod trying to eat snowflakes ... this time, when the feed comes on, it's filming the snow out the window from indoors, where it's brightly lit, with low, cheerful chatter in the background.]

[Outside, the snow is drifting down in big, fat flakes over the old houses of Ecruteak, making the whole dang place look like a gingerbread town.]

[Heather's voice cuts in.]


Guess what, you guys.

[And then the 'Gear is scooted around, giving a jerky view of what seems to be the interiors of one of the several old diners in the town, festively decorated and full of old folks enjoying their coffee. Then Heather's face slides into view, and she leans in for a moment or so, adjusting the 'Gear's position a little, biting her lip as she does so. Then she withdraws, grinning widely.]

I am no longer a drain on society.

That's right, people.

I have a job.

Try not to faint.

[... She does look slightly less messy than usual. Like she actually tried to do something with her hair and gave up halfway through as opposed to one sixth of the way through. ... Oh. And also. She's in a dress.]

[... But don't get too excited, guys. There's nothing to fill the dress with so somehow Heather In a Dress looks even more like a boy than Heather In Normal Clothes does. Still, viewers, feel free to take a moment or two to inwardly marvel at the bizarre, surreal vision that is 'Heather Mason in a nice, old-school waitress outfit', but don't expect her to wait up for you. She's already continuing, scratching absent-mindedly at the collar of the dress as she does so.]


Figured I'd better rake up some cash before Christmas gets too close-- gotta get people presents and stuff, y'know? So yeah. The old folks who own the place are super chill. They make my last manager look like .... well, she already was a psycho bitch-monster of death, but they make her look like even MORE of one. [She pauses, canting her head to give the 'Gear one of those 'YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKIN ABOUT' looks, because there HAVE to be some people out there who remember where Heather worked around this time last year. And WHO she worked for.] Guys who were here one year ago, you probably remember her.

But yeah, so, they gave me permission to check messages and stuff if it's not too busy in here, so! Best bosses ever.

And hey, if you're in the area, stop by and visit or something. It's nice and warm in here.

... Plus...

[And that's when she holds up a coffeepot, with a cheerful grin that borders ever-so-slightly on the sinister.]

I'm legally sanctioned to pour boiling hot liquids in close proximity to people now! Sweet, huh?

[End feed. c:]

82. [Video] Backdated to November 1st!

[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.]


Nnngh....

[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.]


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.


[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.]


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.]

81. [Video/Action for Ecruteak]

Hey, 'Zilla, you got the 'Gear?

This stuff NEEDS to be documented.

[That's the first thing that can be heard over the feed. When the camera first comes on, a pair of large, familiar reptilian red eyes are blinking down at it. Is it recording...? Oh, okay, recording! Good.]

[Then it zooms out a little, enough to show-- HEY! That's not the Totodile that last hijacked the 'Gear!]

[With newly black-rimmed eyes, a proud red crest, and a new ultra-manly thickened jaw, it would seem that the bratty little Totodile who'd last been seen moping on the network over whether or not he was a good Pokemon... had finally evolved, after a whole year of wanting to stay 'the baby' of the gang. What prompted his choice to finally start growing up?]

[Well, that's a story that'll have to wait till later, because he lets out a satisfied snort at the sight of the red recording light, and then turns it away from himself-- only for the screen to IMMEDIATELY be filled with a grotesquely-detailed rubber Mightyena mask, snarling and sporting a wild mane of black hair over the top!]


RAAAARRLLGGHHBLAAARG!

[... Oh wait. The black hair is just Heather.]

[She yanks the mask off, grinning widely.]


I can't even handle all these epically cheesy costumes, man. Some things really ARE universal.

[The camera shifts a little-- it's from a much higher vantage-point than normal now, considering all the previous times the camera-croc's been the one filming, it's been from a vantage point on the FLOOR unless he was able to persuade Honey the Butterfree to carry him-- and it becomes apparent that they're in a costume store. There's rack after rack of jumbled costumes everywhere-- looks like it's already been pretty thoroughly ransacked by local kids, but there's still plenty of stuff left. It's just... everywhere.]

[Hanging the mask back up, Heather bends down to start picking through the other odds and ends, which range from cheesy and cheap-looking to actually fairly interesting.]


Maybe this time around, we'll actually get to ENJOY the holiday instead of spend the whole time running away from rips in the fabric of space and time...



[OOC: Action for anybody in Ecruteak, obviously! Feel free to assume your character is already in the shop, Heather will gladly harass them to try on stupid costume crap with her. Also feel free to address the camera-croc.]

80. [Video/Text/Action for Ecruteak]

[Before the video shows anything, there's some shuffling sounds, and then the tell-tale noise of a cardboard package being ripped open. Then, Heather's voice, muffled at first, speaks up.]


... Again?

[She sounds surprised. ... Unpleasantly so.]

[The 'Gear is tugged out of her pocket at that point, its view wavering and then settling on the torn-open box she apparently just received by Dragonite delivery, in the Ecruteak inn lobby. The Dragonite in question is already slinging its mailbag over its shoulder and lumbering out the door, visible over the edge of the box.]

[Much like one of Heather's posts from earlier in the month, inside the box sits a single Pokeball. She had pulled out the 'Gear to check the Trainer ID, and doesn't realize it's on yet. There's some clacking noises as she thumbs the buttons a little distractedly... and then she gets her answer.]


... God dammit...

[Her voice had gone from surprised to resigned in a surprisingly short amount of time, but then, given the number of friends of hers disappearing lately... that's hardly surprising. And in this case, it's one that's hitting her a little harder than she might have previously thought. Of all the presences in Johto she hadn't even begun to think might up and poof out of existence one day... and this is one that she'd still had so many questions for.]

[That little praying mantis soul skittering down the streets in my head... that really WAS him, wasn't it.]

[She heaves a sigh and her hand appears, reaching into the box to take the ball out.]


Might as well see who I got...

[She presses the button with her thumb and triggers the obligatory flash of white light...]


.... What the-- ... aw, HELL.

[Wow. From surprised, to resigned, to.... indignant?]

[The dazzling light fades after a second or two, and shows....]


GENGKI--GEN GENGAR GAR GARRHH GURRH!

[... A Gengar that, if it were speaking English, would surely be cussing everyone and their grandmothers out in language so foul it would make a sailor blush. Heather is already recoiling from it, groaning out loud. Of course. Of course he'd leave her... THAT.]

God dammit... of all the-- HEY. Hey, GHOST... thing.

[Slightly the Gengar, who had clearly been cooped up in that ball for quite some time during transit and is now in the foulest of moods and wondering where the hell L is, turns his red-eyed glare on Heather, and the 'Gear. >8( WHAT!]

Look, Ryuzaki's ... ghost thing, I know you're probably pissed, but me and ghosts? Don't get along. So if you're gonna-- ... I dunno, be part of my team or whatever, I'd better not get any of that funny business from you, all right?

[She remembers the angry messages scrawled all over L's hotel-room walls, okay?]

[Needless to say, the ghost Pokemon merely scrunches his face up in response. Who's THIS bitch?! He raises both stubby paw-hands and proceeds to flip off his new trainer without so much as a how-do-you-do. Heather (still not visible-- the 'Gear is dangling idly in her hand by her side) just huffs.]


Now, see, that? You can do THAT all you want. Just don't touch my stuff, or my roomies, or do any of your freaky-ass ghost shit, okay? ... Okay. Great. Ugh...

[She starts to turn away. Better go upstairs and brace Henry for the fact that there was now going to be a GHOST hanging around on occasio-- askhg';JGA;LDFKJG';S WHAFUCK--]



[Heather abruptly appears on-camera as Slightly bodily yanks the smallish rug residing in front of the inn counter right out from under her feet-- interestingly, her hair is now... er. Two-toned. When did THAT happen? Well, either way, she's biting the dirt without further ado. WHUMP. The 'Gear clatters to the floor... only to immediately be snatched up and filled with a great big ghostly grin.]

[At the same time? A text message is sent out to all of Johto, with the sound of the Gengar's spiky little fingers clacking away on the keys smugly on video simultaneously.]



MAN TAHT BOX WUZ crampd as shit where iz my trainr ryoozakey im totlly P. O.'d @ him i bet he ran off w/ his durty slut-hoe

whoo is dis chick anywayz she looks liek a boye

o well anywayz i PWNED her, w/e w/e

I GESS IM DA BOSS AROUND TIHS JOINT NOW SO RESPECKT--





K;LJSDG;FHJDL;G


DFSGJLFGH;H

GSGGG


JHHJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ






[ooc: Responses will come either... mid-fight or after things have settled down. Ecruteak-goers, feel free to experience the wonder that is a teenage girl rolling around on the floor and trying to punch a ghost.]
[TIME IS SHORT. The Tournament's only lasting so long, so Heather's gotta take advantage of the time she's in-town while she can. It's time to make good on a promise.]

[Which is why she's hurrying down the darkening streets of Goldenrod City for the first time in a good few months, hastily following the directions she's got written down on a scrap of paper. With the fights starting first thing in the morning, she's gotta squeeze out every last drop of bonding time the night will hold.]

[When she does reach her destination (with just a FEW wrong turns in the process), her first reaction is to stop and let out an impressed whistle.]

[... And then tug her PokeGear out of her pocket.]


[VOICE, to Rise]


RISE.

Your house is huge. Come let me in.
[So what's the best thing for someone who's been spending their time alternately fretting and pretending not to be fretting over circumstances well beyond their control?]

[A) More fretting
B) Meditation
C) A DISTRACTION]

[If anyone answered anything other than C, they're either very silly, or Cooper.]

[Heather is neither (.... okay, maybe she's the former quite often), so needless to say... when the posters for the Johto-wide fighting tournament going on in Goldenrod City hit the streets, they were the first thing to catch her eye. In fact, anyone spending any amount of time with her in person has probably noticed the way she's been stopping in the middle of whatever she was doing every single time she passes one of the damn things to look at it contemplatively, with a cocked head and a sort of half-wistful, half-devilish look in her eye.]

[As such, nobody whatsoever should be surprised when she pops up on the network on the day of signups ending with one of the flyers in hand. She'd been waffling on account of the fact that her father was sure do disapprove, but... man, she's been spoiling for something like this for months, and she's got... more than a little steam to blow off. Steam that isn't always so easy to blow off in a world where society expects you to resolve all your conflicts by letting animals do your fighting for you.]


YO Johto, what's the happs?

[She grins broadly and then flourishes the poster at the screen.]

Guys. Guys. Look.

Look at this.

Best thing ever, or BEST thing ever?

Who else's gonna sign up?

I'M gonna. ... Assuming the puppy-eyes work on Dad, I guess. They're a little rusty but I was once the puppy-eyes champion so I should be okay. And for anybody weirded out by the surreal idea of ME doing puppy-eyes, ask yourselves this: how ELSE could I have gotten away with all the crazy crap you totally know I got up to as a kid?

[A sly, knowing nod.]

Yeah, makes more sense now, doesn't it.

ANYWAY.

[Another flourish of the poster.]

So if any of you are planning on being in this thing, gimme a shout! I wanna size up the competition and stuff. ... And also, transportation? I'm in Ecruteak, so... if anyone's in the area, I guess we could carpool, or something? [She's not opposed to the idea of leaping on a strange Pidgeot if she HAS TO, buuuuut...] I mean, the Tournament isn't supposed to LAST too long, so I'm guessin' we'd all only be gone for like... what, a week or two at most? Then I'd be headed back to Ecruteak because seriously, nice place.

Anyway... [She trails off, eyes flicking off to the side of the screen.] I'd better go convince Dad that I won't die if I do this. [Eyes back to the screen, she gives a somber, soldier-like nod and salutes solemnly.] Wish me luck, my people.

[BOOP. End feed.]

[TIME TO GO FIND DAD.]

Been stuck here since June... now it's:

December 2011
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