Heather Mason (
itsnotmybirthday) wrote in
badfic_manor2012-07-22 11:22 pm
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Heather Mason | Video | Number of saves: 1
[For a split second the video shows a very irate young woman before quickly turning away from her. It's hard to catch, but the camera briefly shows that the nightstand next to the bed is knocked over, with black scuff marks on it as if someone kicked it down in anger. The next few moments are shaky, and it sounds like she’s fumbling with the controls while grumbling about “I don’t want to make a video”, and “Why isn’t this thing working”, and finally what sounds like “Ugh, forget it, I don’t have the time for this!” The camera focuses on her again. By the time she’s done, she’s shouting loud enough that her voice is getting hoarse.]
It was over. It is over. I killed your stupid God. Claudia and Vincent are gone, too. So are all the monsters. I was done! I finished all this! What more do you people WANT from me?
[Suddenly she’s quiet, and her eyes wander aimlessly around the room. It only lasts a couple of seconds, and when her attention is turned back to the viewer she starts talking in a low, almost threatening voice. Or it would sound threatening if it wasn’t so obvious how tired and stressed-out she is.]
I don’t know who did this, or why or…or if whoever’s responsible can even see this. I don’t think I have it in me to care anymore. If you do see this, whoever or whatever you are…you won’t get away with this. I’m done playing your sick games.
It was over. It is over. I killed your stupid God. Claudia and Vincent are gone, too. So are all the monsters. I was done! I finished all this! What more do you people WANT from me?
[Suddenly she’s quiet, and her eyes wander aimlessly around the room. It only lasts a couple of seconds, and when her attention is turned back to the viewer she starts talking in a low, almost threatening voice. Or it would sound threatening if it wasn’t so obvious how tired and stressed-out she is.]
I don’t know who did this, or why or…or if whoever’s responsible can even see this. I don’t think I have it in me to care anymore. If you do see this, whoever or whatever you are…you won’t get away with this. I’m done playing your sick games.
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Like he doesn't. pfft.] Dunno where the hell you are or what the hell you were doing, but you're not anymore. The whoever is a chick that goes by 'the author', and whatever.... is apparently a teenaged girl writing a story. Don't ask, because I have no idea.no subject
A story? Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?
[Yeah, she looks very unimpressed. It's obvious that it's out of confusion. She isn't glaring "at" him, she's glaring "with" him, or...something.]
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[She seems...oddly undisturbed. Annoyed, fed-up, and moderately confused, but otherwise Heather is almost accepting of the explanation. She looks away from the feed for a few seconds to look around the room, actually taking in the details this time. It looks like a half-assed, shoddily put together mash-up of her bedroom in the apartment and her old room(not the hospital one, thank...something) as Alessa.
Honestly, she has seen weirder, and none of that surprises or bothers her. ...Except for one detail. Robbie the Rabbit wallpaper. Did that even exist in the real world? She was pretty sure it didn't. She looks back at the feed.]
Are you...sure we're not in Silent Hill?
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Nope. Place is called the manor, and from what I can tell, it's not much of anywhere. Right next to a woods and a lake, as well as a desert. Which is pretty damned hard to come by in normal places. [As in: He's never seen it himself.]
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[She's expecting him to say there are impassible blocks and/or inexplicable gaping holes where the desert, woods, and lake if it isn't landlocked just end because they damn well can.]
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[Oh look, she can be surprised. The second was more of a rhetorical question than anything.]
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[MEANWHILE, IN NON-BACKDATED THREADS--ahem.]
So who are you, anyway?
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[that's all he says. COMFORTING, IS IT NOT?]
The name's Dean. you?
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...Heather. Nice meeting you, I guess.
[The picture moves around a little as she moves back to the bed to sit down. It was kind of comfy, at least. Or maybe it only felt that way because she was so tired.]
Is it safe to eat anything around here?
[She felt silly asking that, but she couldn't remember the last time she ate. It might have been at the Happy Burger in the mall before it all went to hell. Or, she could have been fantasizing about eating there because she was so damn hungry. The beef jerky she kept using to distract the monsters had started to look a little appetizing near the end, ok? And if all there was around the manor were health drinks, she would chug every last one of the nasty things right now without flinching. At least it would give her some energy.]
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[Well, it IS a manor, right?)
#
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[She's joking. Well, as much as one can joke at a time like this. Probably.]
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I am so sorry in advanced. Probably.
To the closed door of a room a few shuffles away.
The Anger Management soundtrack continues within, his mouth quirks, then he knocks.]
Excuuuuuuuuuuse me Princess Chuckles, but your technique needs a bit of work. Screamin' at your boner ain't gonna be spanktabulous, if y'know what I mean. Socks are your friends if it's that hard....that's what she said.
IT'S AMAZING OK also backdated like woah
There were many different ways to respond to that. An indignant "Excuse me" didn't quite cut it, not to mention it was just a reiteration of his first words. "That's/You're sick" and "Ew, gross" were missing something that would make them appropriate as initial-meeting greetings. Actual questions like "Who the hell are you" and "What are you even talking about" were much too complicated to voice out loud in her completely baffled state, and any combinations of "Column A and Column B" were out of the question. Really, anything over one syllable was.]
...What?!
[That was good enough, right? Right?]
I do what I can ;) backdated and aged like fine wine
Your boner is like an impressionable brat. If you yell at it, it'll piss its proverbial pants an cry an want cookies as a bribe. You gotta have a firm, yet wise technique. An lotion.
[He lets out a sigh and rubs his forehead] I don't get paid enough fer this shit...
I told you, just use a sock. But not one'a the ones you're wearin'. That's not exactly a turn on- ...unless that's your thing.
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[She was so, so close to doing something like tearing her hair out. Or kicking over more furniture. Or...something. Was this guy for real? Was this really happening? Was this real life?]
What the hell is wrong with you?!
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Yeah? Coulda fooled me. Maybe you've got a walrus humpin' a disgruntled manatee in there instead. I'm just sayin; lotion's your best fuckin friend forever, man. Don't be skimpy with the portions either.
[Kids these days, all shy and hot and cold at once. Sheesh. Badou doesn't miss those days when he was a cranky little shit.] What's wrong with me? Well I really need a cuntin' cigarette fer starters. I could also use a workin' tivo in this place.
[Video]
If you find them, do let me know; I've been looking for whoever's responsible and haven't been able to get at them at all.
[Video] Nope not late at all what are you talking about