[first, there is laughter. no denying that it's on the manic side.]

I can't accomplish anything here. I thought, maybe- no, no, no. No. Foolish thought. There's no trace of you. Nothing.

[second, there is a dragging sound. the source is a crudely stitched bunny doll dressed in a tiny suit. jack holds it by one arm. he leaves a red trail behind him.]

But I'm not the only foolish one, am I. [if you're close, you'll see him smile.] Hero worship falls under that category, wouldn't you say, Elliot?


[ooc; wandering around near xanadu, very cursed! might have messed up an npc or two. or three.

[...there's blood dripping on the screen again. Plunk. Plunk. A moment or so later and fingers reach for it, pulling the device out of the way. The drips are still there, but you can at least see past them to see an Ed who is positively ecstatic. And also dripping blood from his fingertips.]

Did you know you can flavor blood? Fucking awesome.

[...yes, that last word was falsetto. Hey, he's in a really good mood.

Although at the expense of who is really the important question here.



Ed is cursed. Expect to receive even more inappropriate comments than usual.]

Oh, don't be such a big baby.

Getting electrocuted doesn't hurt that much.

[Hello, City.

This is Kaito, your friendly neighborhood cop. Today he's apparently out on a stroll.

No wait.

He's patrolling! There's a cigarette dangling from his lips and he's moving around the streets until... HE RUNS RIGHT INTO A POLE.

Bastard is still blind.]

SHIT! WHO PUT A FUCKING POLE IN MY WAY? I WILL SHOOT THE RETARD THAT PULLED THIS KIND OF CRAP ON ME!

[Totally yelling at...thin air.]

WHO DID IT?

[Turns and stubs his foot on a crack in the ground.]

FUCKING HELL?! I AM TRYING TO WORK HERE! STAY OUT OF MY WAY OR I WILL ARREST YOU!

[Filtered from Rido Kuran]
Could anyone tell me about a man named Rido Kuran? I'd appreciate any information.



[ooc: Aftermath of Rido taking an 'interest' in Saya.]

[ natasha is actually out and about today. at the moment she's picking up a coffee, obvious impatience on her face as she waits for it to be ready. ]

I've never had much patience for incompetance. At this rate, I could have grown the beans and brewed it myself.

[ there's an indignant sound from behind the counter. natasha raises an eyebrow, challenging, before disconnecting the feed. ]

ooc | natasha's cursed! feel free to bump into her or reply here at your own risk.

[ From the muffled sound of it, it's fairly clear early on that this recording is wholly unintentional, though if the exhilarated laughter is any indication, whatever's happening on the other end is an absolute riot. ]

All right there, Merlin?

[ Comes the familiar-to-some voice of one Fred Weasley, and you can very nearly hear that characteristic wolf-like grin. ]

[Merlin's exhilarated laughing might just be a bit nervous too, because this is really completely unlike anything he has ever tried before. When he replies to Fred, his voice is breathless, and unbelieving.]

Yeah, I'm fine! This is so weird!

Takes a bit of getting used to. [A third voice, familiar to the first but different enough to be recognised as George chimes in.] So are we looking for something in particular or is this pure intelligence gathering?

Hold onto your knickers, would you? We're almost there.

[ "There" isn't exactly made clear, but there's a bit more of just rushing wind before anyone speaks again. ]

Right about here ought to work. What exactly'd you have in mind, oh great one?

[A slight pause, before Merlin replies, sounding slightly uncertain.]

Well. I've been doing some research, so I was hoping I might be able to smash it. I have no idea if it's actually possible and I'm thinking I should be doubting that, but I thought, why not. So if you two have any ideas, feel free to join in?

Lets stick with the classics, shall we Fred? On the count of three...

[ There's a scramble of sounds as a pair of wands are pulled out from pockets, a quiet count of 'three, two, one--', and then a slew of words that are most certainly not in English. The reverberation is a loud distortion, a crackle and a whine, so I really do hope your device wasn't turn up loud.

It's only a heartbeat later that the trio comes clattering out on the other side, grunts and oofs and brooms everywhere, but never mind any of that. ]

Bloody Hell, Merlin! What on Earth was that?

[Confused pause goes here.]

What was what?

Your magic, mate! [ And both twins chime in excitedly. ] Do it again!

[ Curtis's brows are arched as he looks around him, his muscles physically tense and the worry hardly strained from his voice. The last thing he remembered-- ]

Nikki?! Alisha? Where are... [ He'd rewound time, hadn't he? He'd saved them. He'd saved everyone. Why weren't they back at the community center? Or why wasn't he in his room. It didn't make sense; this was unfamiliar, new, foreign. He always went back and knew what was happening, knew what to stop. How to change the future. ]

Nathan, you prick, if this is some fucked up joke...

[ But it isn't, and he knows it. Nathan isn't this clever. None of them are, to put him in some place he didn't recognize and... he pushes the thoughts aside, running a hand down his face and looking to the device that's been recording him. ]

Hello? Can anyone hear me? I need to know what's going on.

[The video opens in a formal-looking room in Alexis’ penthouse. Alexis is sitting in a chair near a writing desk, idly toying with his pipe while he speaks to Jezebel standing in front of him. Nothing seems all that unusual save for a strange expression on Jezebel’s face -- one that seems much more calm and maybe a little displeased than he usually looks near his father.]

You know what your duties are, Jezebel. I don’t want you being distracted by them.

[Alexis keeps his gaze focused on his son’s face, his customary smile not there. It’s like he knows there is something...off.]

I’m not distracted. [Jezebel’s tone is far more irritable than he’d ever dare to use with his father under usual circumstances -- and his expression only sours further.] You haven’t any reason not to trust me.

No? How fortunate. And here I was concerned that I might have to refocus your attentions to where they are meant to be.

No, you do not. Is that the only reason you’ve called me here?

[Alexis rises to his feet to go stand right before Jezebel.] Your attitude leaves something to be desired. Should I call in a friend of yours to help us to fix that? [A clear threat towards Cassian.]

[There isn’t a verbal response -- just a quick shift in Jezebel’s expression, from disdain to anger. And without warning, his arm swings out, and he backhands his father across the face without so much as flinching.

His father’s eyes widen just slightly in surprise before narrowing in a show of actual anger right before the recording comes to an end.]



((Normal text is Jezebel, italics is Alexis.))

 I know there's a curse going on. It don't take much brains to see that. 

...Do you all gotta be so obnoxious about it?

THE NEXT PERSON WHO SUGGESTS SOMETHING ABOUT MY TEXT WILL HAVE MADE SOME GREVIOUS ERROR 

[though if you're in the house, you might notice that thor really isn't giving a damn about anything and falling asleep in the oddest places.] 

[ The Archive is staring at the screen, face impassive and also smeared with chocolate. ] I generally believe very strongly in a healthy diet for children—

[ There's an obvious but coming, but the sentence in abandoned in favour of eating a cookie. ]

I find it difficult to care today. [ Turning her head, addressing someone off-screen: ] Mr Leon, can we have fries for dinner?




[ooc; so cursed. and yeah, she just posted the other day. no, i don't care ;; ]

[ when the feed clicks on, it's evident that will is sat somewhere without an abundance of light — there are lamps, though — but with a number of books. (in other words: the library). there's a small pile just in front of him, and he can be seen to be leafing through a paperback of some description. the titles of the books that are visible would imply he has something of a soft spot for what can only be described as objectively trash.

that aside, he at least looks comfortable, if not in deliberate disregard of any form of etiquette — his feet, still booted, are resting on the table. ]

There once was a young man from Aberpennar
Who found himself embroiled in quite the dilemma— [ a beat and a flicker of a frown; aberpennar and dilemma don't rhyme, not really. NEVERMIND it's not important. ]
You see, he was quite typical in many respects
and desired to—

[ he stops for a moment, mild (feigned) surprise giving way to equally feigned thoughtfulness. ]

Perhaps I ought not finish, not when there's all manner of polite company and children within hearing — or more accurately, I suppose, listening — distance. There are, that said, a great many things I desire to do today, although it seems as if a great many people would also like to do a great many things today, some not activities they'd normally indulge in. I'm afraid to say that I feel absolutely nothing out of the ordinary; I wonder, then, if I've been cursed at all, or if I've merely been blessed with a startling intense dislike of being utterly, wholly bone idle — or whatever one would say when they detest activities with the sole purpose of being dull and uninteresting.

—Maybe I'll visit the park, feed the pigeons and the ducks and, in a fit of nostalgia, see if the birds here behave any differently to the birds in London. I've always thought that the birds in London portrayed a disturbingly accurate mirror image of the people in London: miserable, and prone to unprovoked acts of violence and inflammatory remarks. Maybe the birds here will simply be unbearably nosy.

[Wilson's voice does not sound quite right today. There's a bitter edge to it that isn't normally there - unless, of course, you're one of the very few people (probably, in fact, one person) who have witnessed him actually get angry enough to lose his filters. He's not really angry, though, just... irritated.]

Apparently, some of us in the City received special training in the advanced art of being an incredible ass. Not that this should come as a surprise to anyone, of course - certainly not to me, at any rate. But, for the record, there are a few basic codes of conduct that can be followed if you'd like to avoid being one of these incredible asses.

When someone holds a door open for you, say thank you. If you don't, and they decide to drop the door so that it hits you, it's really your own fault.

If you bump into someone on the street, say excuse me. If you don't, and they decide to trip you, that is also your own fault.

And if someone happens to be sitting at a cafe, reading over a patient file and enjoying their coffee, with their foot up on the unoccupied chair on the other side of the table, ask before you take the chair. Because if that person should decide that their hot coffee coming into contact with your skin would be an effective means of conveying their displeasure - I'm sure you can guess - it's your fault.

[Click.]


[ooc: asdagds it's late and I'm going to bed. I'm so sorry, guys, still... digging out of the tag pile. RESPONSES WILL COME I PROMISE ;;]