( cut for image )

[ A slit pupil surrounded by scales is the first thing immediately noticeable, at least until Blonde grabs his network device off the floor and frowns at it. On the kitchen floor lounges the owner of the eye; a large, incredibly unhealthy looking saltwater crocodile. ]

So, uh... Does anyone know anything about reptiles? Because I don't know about you guys, but I think she's sick.

[ The crocodile hisses, tail lashing before she... speaks? ]

Breakfast first. Then the network.

[ There's a blink from Blonde, and then he shrugs slightly. ]

Right. Well, Ms. Green and I'll just do that while we wait.

[ locked to Saya ]

Might need some help getting this new addition to work.

((ooc: Mr. Blonde has his very own dæmon for the weekend! Italics are the crocodile.))

[Raymond looks more harried than usual as he adjusts the camera.] Okay... Look. I don't remember how this happened, or why, but I need help.

[And then he points the camera to...his gun. Carefully perched in a pile of blankets, but it's his gun nonetheless.]

Like I said, I don't remember any of this, but it's— [He quickly glances back to it.] She's mine. Apparently. And I've never been one who's good with kids, but... [He gives it another glance, this one lingering.] I could really use some help here.

[The feed kicks on and it's recording a little kid with big blue eyes and long, brown hair. She's in a white pinafore and her hair is tied back in a ribbon. And she's grinning, practically bouncing out of her skin.]

Good morning, Mister Diary. I've woken up somewhere new, today. This is very exciting, though Mother will surely come looking for me. This probably means I should get as much exploring as I can done before she finds me. [And there's a mischievous smirk accompanying this before the device is shut off and Eleanor is off running. Find her anywhere and fair warning, she moves fast.]


(ooc: all replies will come from nosearchingforadam

[Mithos, due to being nearly immortal and not having to do things such as eat or sleep, hasn't really had a place of his own to stay.  And that has worked well for the angel, not being tied down to one location is something that is useful in this city.]

[But right now, maybe it wasn't such a good idea.  At least, not with Mithos who now actually is in the body of a twelve year old with the mind of one as well.  Yes, he is now the Mithos he was during the time of the Kharlan War.  So right now, he's wandering the streets of a city that he's suddenly very unfamiliar with, wondering where his sister and friends went off to and how he got here.  He begins calling out names into the empty streets, as if the people he is looking for are only hiding just around the corner waiting for him to find them.]

Martel?  Kartos?  [He hesitates for a moment as if he doesn't even want to call the last name.]  ...Yuan? 

[This continues for a while, just calling out their names while moving around the city.  The feed turns itself off in the middle of one of his calls.]

OOC:  Feel free to do an offline if you'd like!

( cut for image )

[ He's getting used to the City, he must be if waking up to a bird sitting on his headboard doesn't exactly faze him. Even one that keeps talking to him. Of course he has no idea why, but that's all relative when anything can happen to you.

When the feed kicks in, Bucky's sitting at a table, the sparrow hopping on his shoulder only to fly down every few seconds to grab a chunk out of Bucky's bagel. He's more interested in his coffee, but he does pause a second to comment, voice gruff and tired. ] Chew your food, jeez.

So I guess I'm stuck with you for a while, huh? Y'got a name? [ Too busy eating his delicious bagel to answer him. ] Fine, s'pose I'll just have to give you one.

[ He turns his coffee cup around, brings it back up to his lips to take a deep gulp, clearly contemplating this process. The sparrow is kind of squishy looking, small and compact. Bucky's never known much about birds, but it's kind of cute in it's own way. ] Clipper. [ Boeing 314 Clipper (C-98). Little round passenger plane, flying boat, kind of fits. ] Okay, we're calling you Clipper. Now I'm going to keep drinking this cup of joe and ignore the fact that a talking bird is eating my bagel.

[The video starts to show Lockdown sitting cross-legged on his berth. Sitting across from him is a robotic tasmanian devil, which is about to-scale with him as a regular tasmanian devil would be to a human.]

I'd heard of this happenin', but didn't think it'd ever happen to me.

'Fraid so. Guess your spark ain't so different from a meatbag's after all. Or maybe the City just doesn't care and all sparks are the same to it.

You transform?

Duh.

[To demonstrate, she transforms, and shrinks, into the little navicomputer he usually has inside his car mode. She changes back once the demonstration is over.]

Real nice. What about a holoform? You got one'a those too?

Maybe. Might have to get a leash, though.

And your name?

Jawbreaker.

[/end video]

[ooc: So yeah, he's got daemon day too. He'll be out walking her throughout the weekend.]

To-do List

1. Make breakfast. (Two egg-white omelettes with leftover broccoli and courgettes, whole-wheat toast with jam, tea.)
2. Go shopping. (Need: eggs, real tea, apples, something for dinner - pasta? - milk, cheese.)
3. Nails and hair appointment at 3:30.
4. Take the anatomy texts along, and the O-chem work.
5. Study
6. Arrange for some kind of life.

All set, then. Right. How does one go about getting a life?

[Private to Chase; hackable]

Robert, I'd just like to say now that I did not get drunk last night. Even though I'm eighteen and it's legal, so it's not as though you could really scold me about it if I did.

[ooc: Family day with Chase as her brother! She's a happier, kinder Eden, who swears a lot less frequently.]

You know, it occurs to me that between curses, the City doesn't have a huge variety of ways to keep yourself occupied. Sure, there are things to go out and see, ways to entertain oneself... what I haven't seen a lot of are ways to develop skills, or discuss shared interests with others - in person, that is.

It also occurs me to that it's been a long time since I got to do my actual job, and that my actual job might be helpful filling that gap.

So, if anyone's interested, I think I may offer a poetry class in the City. Reading and discussing philosophy and interpretation, helping each other write our own - it would be very loose and laid-back, more a gathering of like minds than anything. I just thought it might be a nice change of pace for anyone who's inclined towards it. So... if you think you might be interested, let me know.


[ooc: Road Not Taken! Todd is older and an English professor! Neil's not dead! Alms and I took out the parts of the movie that made us cry!

Replies will come from asyouwail after I finish putting icons on it :3]

[Hello, City. This is Kaito wearing nice coat with fur on the hood.

And what's the he's doing?

Why he's spray painting a giant skull on the side of a building! These skulls along with the words "Yellow Rain" appear to be everywhere.]

That's better. The little shits should be able to find their way to our territory now.

[He grins and somehow he seems...younger.]

Should piss off the police too? That's what they get for stopping us from having fun.


[ooc: Have a teenaged Kaito! He's very rebellious and is spray painting your city to mark his territory for his gang! Also, he doesn't like the police. Gasp.]

[The Stephen that comes on the screen look pretty worried - more than he has in a while. He looks a little in danger of bolting every moment, but he stays where he is, glued to his chair.]

So there's this thing that I've been doing since I got here where I write letters to people at home. It's kind of lame and stupid and cheesy and if anyone found them I would pretty much have to bury myself in a hole for a month. But it's been almost a year since I first got here and I'm not writing as many as I used to and I'm worried that this means I'm giving up or I'm forgetting people back home and then I start thinking maybe this place isn't so bad, and it kinds of sends me into a panic. Because there's a part of me that maybe would be kind of fine with it if I stayed here.

[He takes a deep breath and sends another slightly panicked glance to the side.]

Also it bugs the crap out of me when Neil forgets that one of the fridge drawers is for fruit, and the other one is for vegetables. It's not a tough system to remember!

Oh god. Please no one talk to me today.

[He slams his hand hastily over the device to shut it off.]

[ooc: Stephen has been hit with I Cannot Tell a Lie today. HAVE AT HIM. Seriously. :-P]

[Sephiroth looks different today. For one thing, if anyone were close enough to tell, he's a bit shorter. Only six feet tall instead of 6'1". His features are slightly softer and less angular, his neck smoother, and his voice, when he speaks, has a higher pitch. Most notably, he is wearing a shirt under his leather jacket, covering his chest for once.]

Hello. I find myself in need of help, and the network strikes me as a good place to seek it.

I have a dependent companion animal. His name is Faremis. [Sephiroth bends and picks up a black bird: clearly a chick, but large enough to fill both his cupped hands. It is vaguely ostrichlike in shape, with a long neck that moves as it turns toward the device and blinks at it.] Like most juvenile birds, he requires constant care and regular feedings throughout the day. However, I will be busy with other concerns at times, and I won't always be able to give him the amount of attention he needs.

If anyone would be interested in a job as a part-time caretaker, there would be payment involved. I am looking for responsible, competent individuals, capable of handling an intelligent, active animal. [By which he means, if something happens to his bird, he will be most displeased.]

Thank you.

[Sephiroth doesn't really seem to care that he's become physically female.]

[The video opens to just such an image: a familiar and malaised looking crocodile with an equally weathered looking bird--colored feathers dull and ragged, beak scratched--perched upon its tongue, pecking cheerfully at its teeth.]

...if you wanted some of the meat, you should have said so.

[The bird lifts its head and answers her in kind, a clipped and masculine voice that has that same mocking drawl that Carla often uses,]

Didn't ask. Hunger, unacceptable. No more.

[The little barbet gives the equivalent of a shrug before going right back to pecking at the croc's teeth. It prompts Carla to get up, she crouches down in front of the crocodile, laying a hand gently on its nose before reaching in and grabbing the bird with the other. The bird attacks her just as fearlessly as she snatched it.]

I should let her eat you...

Ah.... [Suddenly a bit shy about asking this, but it bothers him.]

[There's some silence while this possibly familiar looking girl looks at the camera, frustrated and worried. The voice is still soft like Ken's, but slightly more feminine sounding.]

I have no intention of going however long this might last without bathing or changing clothes. That would just be unsanitary. However, this does raise a moral question: It's not the same as changing or touching the body of the opposite gender if your gender changed without your permission, is it? It's still my body, even if I'm not normally a girl.

[Voice a bit quieter, eyebrows furrowed.] It's embarrassing regardless. Being younger I didn't have this issue, since I was unaware I reverted to childhood. I hope this doesn't last long.

[Device shuts off at that.]



[[ooc: Seeing as we don't have a Love Hina cast, I shamelessly used Shinubo Maehara as Ken's girl version. I really hope that's not a problem? I also hope the question isn't offensive. ;A; I'm very sorry if it is.]]

[The street's in the background, people bustling about. Raphael might look a bit younger by four or five years, his face not quite as set in its expressions, but the change is more in the way he's holding himself than anything. He's speaking carefully and clearly.]

Is this--

This is Raphael, of the Virtues. I'm honestly not sure where I am at the present. I don't think it's Assiah. But I'll try to send my coordinates as soon as possible. I've tried to leave on my own but that's proved difficult, if not impossible. There seems to be some sort of barrier around this place.

I... fully expect this all to go on my record, but I am very sorry for any and all trouble I might have caused. It won't happen again.

[clearing his throat nervously]

Please contact me as soon as possible. Thank you very much.

(ooc: Deaged a couple thousand years to the, er, glory days of youth! ... Sort of. Raphael back when he was an aide, pre-Belial, pre-war, and pre-cynicism.)

Heh, looks like a pretty crazy day today, doesn't it?

[The guy in the video, if any of you happen to recognize him, seems sort of different today. Taller, for one. Maybe a deeper voice? Whatever the difference is, his smile is the same as ever, and he grins cheerfully at the camera.]

You guys shouldn't let curses get you down though! Whether you're suddenly bigger or smaller or feathered or lost or a brand new parent, you should face it head on and smile. It might even be fun!

[He glances away from the screen after that last comment, as if some sudden thought had caught him by surprise.]

Come to think of it, I should probably go out and do something too.

[[Elmer's aged-up today! By quite a lot. Replies will be coming from unfrowning!]]

Wish I could remember what I did yesterday, where I was... must've been good.

Guess it just means the City's gotta top it, tonight. Who's having a party?

I got a reputation to keep up after all.



( ooc details )

[Audio Post]

[The recording opens with the white noise of the City--the bustle of bodies, the shuffle of feet, the chatter of passerby--all oddly faint and removed from the microphone, as though recorded from a reasonable distance. A minute later, there comes a new sound, closer this time: a soft trill, a faint whistle, a rustle of feathers.]

My goodness, this isn't nearly so pleasant a curse in the middle of winter. It's much harder to fly, somehow, and the wind is so cold! Brrr. No wonder birds keep to their nests in weather like this.

[Another rustle of feathers; she seems to be adjusting them again and again, trying to find an arrangement that's comfortable--or perhaps, just making use of the movement to keep warm.]

And it's so hard to find an open window like this, as well! No one wants to let all the heat out by leaving one that way, of course. So first it's the trouble that one can't get out, and then it's the trouble that one can't get back in!

[Another high-pitched whistle.]

My, I do make a pretty sight against all the snow, though.

[She falls silent a minute, the background chatter returning to the forefront of the recording, and for a time it seems as though the message might be over, but then--]

Oh! There! Someone's opened the--oh, good, no, don't close, please, I want to come in too!

[And with an almost violent rustle of feathers, the audio ends with an abrupt click.]


[OOC: Yup, she's a Western Rosella again today, wings and feathers and all. And, evidently, not too fond about being out in the cold weather! She'll be responding via voice or video on the Network, but for anyone who wants Action, she's just managed to sneak into the Library as of the end of this post, and she'll be out and about again if you'd like to catch her around the City, too!]

[Voice]

Where the fuck am I?

[OOC: Curt has a case of Feels Like The First Time today. He's from the very end of the movie which means straight from a slightly dystopian version of 1984 New York.]

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Mantis_Hymenopus_coronatus_4_Luc_Viatour.jpg

[Coyly posed orchid mantis appears. White gloved hand reaches into the mantis space. Size comparison shows the insect to be large (7 inches). The visitor's fingers gently stroke the mantis, who responds cat-like in pleasure.]

"Well worth the risk, my dear."

[Poor Hanna. He looks tired as he sits on his couch, gently rocking what appears to be a small throw pillow shaped like a dinosaur in his arms, humming to it quietly. Of note is the fact that the dino pillow is wearing a poorly wrapped diaper.]

That's it, Trevor, that's a good boy...rock a bye, baby, on the tree tops...

[He closes his eyes and smiles, continuing to sing lullabies to the pillow. After a while, he sighs happily, getting up and moving out of the room.]

Finally...g'nite, kiddo...Daddy loves you...

[ooc: Poor, poor Hanna. Curse is It’s a Boat, it’s a Bug, it’s Ours, and for the weekend, his Godzilla throw pillow is his son Trevor. :|)