I hope that everyone has had time to recover from their experiences in the desert.

That was a strange curse, and strangely anticlimactic. I don't know what I was expecting, but it's worrisome--the sudden split, the apparent lack of control that the deities had over the event (but their amount of control has been brought into question before now), the abrupt disappearance of the desert. The City has an inherent instability to it. I understand that. I wish I understood something beyond that.

Someone--Rosella?--mentioned an hourglass. It seems like sand has always been making random appearances in the City (as far as I can remember) and everything seems to revolve around time: the Clock always (or almost always) ticks, the twelve apartment complexes are arranged around the center of the City like numbers on a clock face, most curses last twenty-four hours, other curses are so regular that they could be marked on a calender.

Sand and time. Did the hourglass get turned upside-down? Is there any significance to the fact that one City was sand and the other was glass when glass can be made from sand? How much control do the deities have and how much power do the other beings that we've seen before have? How much power do we have?

Not that it matters. The City exists whether or not we're here, whether or not we remember, and whether or not we care enough to worry about what it is and what its purpose is. Maybe the City isn't a sentient thing or a twisted experiment; maybe it's a world like any other where individuals don't mean anything. Maybe the Clock would keep ticking if we all vanished (if a clock works in a universe where no one can hear it, does it make a sound?). Right now, I'm inclined to think of us as grains of sand in relation to the City as a whole.

( Filtered to Neil and Todd // Unhackable )

( Private // Off Network )

[ooc: The triumphant return of mopey tl;dr that no one can read!]

So uh.

At 2:50 this afternoon I will have been in The City for a year. Minus the week I got sent home.

Anybody want to get really, really drunk?

[ Pepper's walking downtown, shield maiden-slash-roommate in tow. Already they've got a couple shopping bags on them, but they show no sign of stopping their retail therapy trip any time soon. ]

[ Filtered call to Charlie McGee ]

Hey, Charlie, Pepper here. Sif and I are out shopping for the apartment and whatnot, you're more than welcome to join us if you want.


[ ooc: What it says on the tin. Lovely ladies are out shopping. ]

[Karl sits cross-legged in his cell. His eyes are clear and almost glowing in his pale face. His very aura radiates a crackling excitement. Like a child about to do something forbidden. Something thrilling. In the background, a song plays, the bass thumping like a heartbeat. Someone's clearly quite cursed - and quite past caring.]

Dieties.

~Come out, come out wherever you are?

I desire a chat.


[OOC: Well, Karl's reached the end of his rope. He's now going to bargain with the Dieties to spring him loose. Then he'll proceed to find Saya - and carry out his fabulous double-suicide, City!dead factor or no. He'll be giving up his healing powers in exchange for freedom. He'll also request the Dieties to create a 'time-illusion' in Solomon Goldsmith's head, so he doesn't notice Karl's gone until it's too late. WISH HIM LUCK, GAIZ! ^^b. Dieties to please be using ze 'DIETY FILTER' <3 ]

It feels I've been here almost four months now... I don't know. [Raymond runs a hand through his hair and speaks without looking directly into the camera, almost as though he doesn't realize it's on.] I used to keep track of the time by my own clock, but obviously that doesn't work here... That's four months of it being stopped while the big one here just keeps ticking, and ticking, and ticking.

[He pauses.] Maybe that's why I keep checking it. Just in case whatever's keeping it stopped changes its mind.

[And again.] Maybe it's just a hard habit to break.

[His eyes lower for a moment, mouth hanging open as though he has something more to say, but he doesn't. He reaches to turn off the camera instead.]

[video/action]

[The camera clicks on as Peter walks across his basement room, wearing nothing but boxers. He idly scratches his balls before digging through a pile of clothes, looking for something reasonably clean. He's trying - and failing - to ignore the song playing.]

It's Friday, Friday
Gotta get down on Friday
Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend, weekend
Friday, Friday
Gettin' down on Friday
Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend

[Patience has never been one of his virtues.]

IT'S SUNDAY YOU STUPID COW!


[Scowling, he pulls on a pair of jeans and heads to the bathroom. Abruptly, the song changes.]

Wake up in the morning feeling like P Diddy
(Hey, what up girl?)
Grab my glasses, I'm out the door, I'm gonna hit this city
(Lets go)
Before I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack
'Cause when I leave for the night, I ain't coming back


Now there's an idea!

[And it's back to his pile of clothes. Moments later, he emerges triumphant with a bottle of...something. God only knows what.]