[Jimmie's communicator clicks on by itself, giving a decent, if not great, view of a room. Nondescript, unexceptional. The room's unimportant, the location irrelevant; the subject matter is far more interesting anyway.

A shape in bed, tucked in with care. Tall, too solidly built to be a woman, though the identity of the subject matter is obscured by a pillow and long tresses peek out from underneath.

A minute passes, then a second. Ten, all told, long enough for the location to be traced and placed, identified as an apartment in building 11 with no current tenant, and then the feed shuts off.]

( [For Police] )

( [SPAM/video for post-revival] )

[A/N: plotmakers, if I missed anything or made a misstep just let me know and I'll fix!]

It's just strange, don't you think?

[Judith needs to get over this habit, of spewing random thoughts aloud to Ba'ul while not realizing her device has turned on.]

Yuri said I've even been here before. You too, but you don't remember anything, either, right?

[A slight pause.]

That's what I thought.

[And a longer pause. She sounds unusually wistful when she speaks again.]

I wonder if Karol was ever here...

[Today Nathan is hijacking Simon, Alisha's, and Curtis' flat. He's in their kitchen, stealing their beer and getting cigarette ash all over their counter. But that's okay, because he's doing Curtis a favour. One he didn't ask for, it's important to add. Curtis is smart enough to know not to ask Nathan for anything if he wants it to go according to plan.]

Hey, Frankie. You still looking for someone retarded enough to want to take over your bar? Because I reckon I've got a friend who'd be willing to do that for you.

We did community service together, so he's pretty desperate. Who wants to hire someone with a drug problem? Though to be fair to him I think he's mostly over that now. He's got practice in bar keeping, or whatever, and it's not like it can be that hard.

[Nathan leans closer to the camera, as though confiding something. Which might work better if he bothered with filters every now and then.]

Between you and me, he's got a bit of a habit of handing out free drinks, so you might want to watch him on that one. He's pretty all right other than that, though. And it's not like you've got anyone else lining up to do it. [Well. He does. But like Nathan pays enough attention Frankie's life to know little things like that.]

[The phone, resting on a pillow, gives a good view of Merlin crouched on his bed, without a neckerchief and in a plain grey-ish nightshirt. His hands are in focus, cupped in front of his face, close enough for his breath to brush against his fingers. His eyes are half-lidded, his expression solemn, and his eyes glow yellow as he mutters, barely audibly:]

Forbearnan.

[A small fire breathes into life over his palms, flickering along with his breaths, and he starts moving his fingers, the flames slipping through them, sliding along his skin but obviously not hurting it.

And he keeps doing it for a while, a soft smile on his lips, before he murmurs:]

You're so useful, but you keep causing so much trouble...

[Which is directed at his magic overall, not the fire.

With those words, he lets out a sharp puff of breath and quickly moves his hands apart as the flames die out.]

((OOC: Tags will come in the morning because I'm going to bed. \o/))

[The camera opens to a great deal of darkness. The focus adjusts to reveal a group of trees in semi-darkness. The view swings again to the night sky, dotted with stars. Whoever is holding the camera is climbing up one of the smallish hills outside the City, panning around as they go, taking in the scenery.

A familiar thatch of red hair comes into the frame. George turns and faces the camera and gives it a weak but genuine smile. He has a stack of boxes in his arms, which is hoists before giving the camera holder a strained look.]

You can help with these, Fred. Holding the camera doesn't count as work, you know.

[ There's laughter from the man off-screen, but it's light and gentle, something that carries on the wind rather than painting across the skies. Sincere, but something is very clearly off. ]

Oi, I'll have you know this is the most important bit. Now move your feet, you lazy sod.

Alright, alright. But you owe me a favour.

[George casts a glance at the camera, slow and steady. A favour he won't be getting back, of course.

They reach the top of the hill in next to no time. George stops to set up the boxes as Fred finds a place to prop up the camera with a good view of the two of them and the clear expanse of the night sky. One that's done George stands, his hands in his pockets.]

Right, are we ready to go then? Right. Well, City, it's been an absolute joy, but we're afraid it's time for us to go home.

[ Fred joins his brother's side, arms crossed and face bright even in the dark veil of night. His smile is much the same as George's - real, his own, but distantly sad. ]

No bogeys from the lot of you, all right? Our time here's been nothing but brilliant - [ Except for the times when it wasn't ] - and we'll not have you wasting that away with gross sobbing.

We thought we might leave you with something a little more in the Weasley style. Ready, Fred?

[George pulls his wand from his pocket and points it at the boxes in front of them. He pauses, and reaches out to bring his arm round his brother's shoulders.]

[ The embrace, however accustomed he is to such from his twin, still manages to bring out something more vulnerable, more scared, but he's not, he won't be, he isn't - so the smile stays on and he does the same with his own wand. ]

Ready.

[ They wordlessly cast the spell, a flick of the wrist they've known a thousand times over, and the sky catches flame. Their signature fireworks, but in spades - the whole lot of them, all at once, go whizzing into the air and outshine the stars. The twins marvel up at them silently, eyes glowing, until Fred looks over and nudges George with his elbow. ]

You all right, Georgie?

[George looks at his brother and nudges back.]

Yeah.

[A blinding flash of a firework obscures the camera's vision. The feed fizzes and cracks, and then cuts out.]