[OOC: HI GUYS. As per usual with my TL;DR event posts, reading this is more or less optional. All you need to know is that Heather's in the Goldenrod City Department Store, and that you are free to bother her in ANY WAY YOU SEE FIT, anywhere in the store
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He has no idea where he is, but at least he has his gun.]
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[Heather's manning the register, with Cujo and his ~*~NEW BEST PUPPY FRIEND~*~ curled at her feet underneath.]
[Today has been... uh... kinda weird so far. But there's still customers coming, and therefore, she's still expected to stay on the job. ... THAT guy looks nervous, though... and... is that ... is that a gun?]
[Oh hell no. Heather likes her guns, but after that disaster with the Joker basically beating up the whole building, she is not down with some twitchy-fingered guy walking into a store with a gun... isn't that how all those news stories of workplace shootings start.]
Hey. Hey you!
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... Bugger, did she see the gun? He returns it to his pocket, tryyyying to be subtle about it. Trying.]
Y-Yes, miss?
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What's that you got there?
[Her voice is mock-pleasant, but it's obvious she knows.]
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It's nice and quiet here. I can only hear what people say. Though someone's singing in the background.
[There's a pause, and she just kind of stands there, tilting her head curiously.] I like your dog.
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[Heather was on her way out of the laundry room, both dogs at her heels. Cujo is busy sniffing the hell out of the newcomer.]
[Heather's brows furrow a little. She can tell something is... just a tad off, in that way that people who were (or ONCE were) similarly 'off'.]
Hey, there... Thanks. Uh... didja get lost or something? This's an Employees Only area...
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[Her voice starts to sound worried.] This isn't Serenity. Where is everyone?
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[She offers a little laugh that's hopefully reassuring-sounding.]
Well, there's not many people around 'cuz this is the laundry room and nobody wants to hang out here. It's pretty gross.
Want me to show you back to the rest of the store or somethin'?
[Serenity? She's never heard of Serenity. Maybe it's one of those little alternative-y yoga shops or something up on the sixth floor...]
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[Heather pauses, suddenly aware of a gaze on her back. Frowning slightly, she turns around. ... Oh, great... one of those creepy customers with the impenetrable stares. If this were just any other day and she was in the mall on her own, she'd have given him a great big 'I'm watching you' glare and walked off, or maybe told him to go fuck himself if he was especially creepy.]
[BUT, she's still on shift, and as such she's expected to be professional to the customers.]
Can I help you, sir?
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Because it's right at ME and no offense, but it's kinda creepin' me out.
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[When you had to deal with a person like Stanley? You got pretty good at detecting friggin' weirdos.]
[Heather turns around, an unnerved grimace on her face, and at her feet, Cujo is growling all over again.]
[Oh GOD. As if this room wasn't creepy enough WITHOUT weird grinning maniacs STANDING IN THE CORNER.]
... The hell're you? Get the fuck out.
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He makes a quick motion with one hand, as if waving something away, but otherwise stands still and keeps up the staring.]
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I think. You didn't hear me.
Get. Out.
[As she speaks, she reaches out to pick up the same heavy metal laundry basket she had when she opened the locker.]
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...Huh. Doesn't he look like that guy who got poisoned the other day? And why is he turning back and--]
Hey, is that a dog right there? Heheh, looks like Missile..
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[The pup in question-- followed by a still barking Cujo-- immediately run over to investigate hobo-Wright's pant legs for interesting smells-- and yes, the Missile-lookalike is equipped with a mic and a set of headphones. Why? Nobody knows.]
[Heather whips around to see who the speaker is, and then her eyes widen.]
Wh-- PHOENIX?
Aren't you-- dude, I thought you were still recov--
What're you doing here?
[A pause.]
[.... snicker.] Nice hat, lawyer-man.
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He looks up, then, and gives Heather a..... very un-Phoenix like smirk.]
Recovering? ...Aah, you mean that car accident. I only sprained an ankle in that, so there's nothing to worry about there.
....And anyway. I'm not a lawyer.
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I-- uh.
No, you were... Dahlia? Poison? Stuck in the Center in Violet for like ever? Me screaming at you over the network? Anything ringing any bells?
[And... then he just says that he's not a lawyer. ... And smirks like that. ...what. Is he... NOT Phoenix? ... But he didn't object when she called him that...]
... Who are you?
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