[ The hat shop feels rather empty today. It's the lack of purring little creatures, he knows that, but it's quiet and he's never been too fond of the quiet. It makes him think too much. Too many thoughts in his brain and the Doctor gets - well - mopey. He supposes he should get up, do something. Instead he's spinning a pork-pie hat around his index finger, aimless and a little bit fed-up.

His feet kick out in front of him on to the desk, and Wanda the adopted cat purrs at him slightly from her perch on top of a helmet. She must have pushed on his device when she climbed up there, because he hasn't quite realised that it's on yet. ]

Well, this is a bit of a pickle, isn't it Wanda? [ He stops spinning the hat to shove it on his head. ] Pork-pie, pickle, I'm sensing a food theme today. Maybe we should see if Pond wants to go for a picnic. Though not near any water. Somewhere dry, hey? Not the beach. Definitely not the beach.

[ Waving his hands at the cat, who looks at him in interest. ] A forest? No, bad, so many bad memories. Okay, a car park? Not exactly nice, but it's all empty and unwatery, that's good, isn't it?

[ Oh, look. He's finally noticed the flashing of his device. ] Wanda, watch your feet dear.

Eagle, I've checked most of the apartment and I think those things are gone.

[A pause then a mewl.]

I found the cats though.

If I never have to see an asexual powder puff again, it will be far too soon. Those things lost their endearing quality around the time they started to invade the kitchen.

[Jace sighs and shakes his head.]

Really. In what universe could something like that possibly be a good idea without the natural predators around? Assuming they have natural predators, of course.

Yesterday was interesting. Too much of a good thing, right? Seemed harmless to begin with and then it got out of hand pretty quick. Anyway, the point of me on the Network right now is that Friday is my birthday and I'm goin' out. Last year I stayed in and let it slip by. But this year, I think I'll spend it at Victrola. Anyone's free to join me or not. But that's where I'll be at Friday night for drinks and dancing.


[ filtered to Buffy ]
I know you've been goin' through a rough time. Things getting any better?


[ filtered to Mercy ]
Haven't talked to you in awhile, you alright? How's the bike coming along?

I have no idea what those things were, but Gent sure loved playing with them.

Alright, listen up.

[ Lind raises his hand up, gesturing around himself for a second-- before it dropped back down. ]

When I wake up, I expect this body to be just how I left it. It’s how it works, yeah? Maybe a few scars here and there, a couple of bruises, new scratches. I expect those. What I don’t expect--

[ His expression, which had been fairly calm up to that point, twisted into a grimace. ] --is to wake up fucking dead. Which one of you wanted your balls cut off, hm’? Who was it?

[At first, there's nothing to be heard but Charlie's voice, muffled. And a purring. This could be any one of her pets. Charlie sounds like she's enjoying what she's doing and there's the occasional clank of a pan and the sound of something sort of sticky moving and then whatever purring thing that was near the device climbs off.

There's the flash of white and gray and Phantom is trying to move the device with his mouth. It's still too big so he settles for scooting it around on the floor and there is Charlie wearing a black t-shirt, shorts, her usual sneakers and her hair is tied back and tucked away under a reddish bandanna. She's in the kitchen but everything that she had on the walls, the spice rack with more spices than anyone should have at one time and the retro clock and the pots and pans, they're all in a box on the counter.

The sticky sound? That's a paint roller moving up and down a wall, coating it in black. Charlie has faint smudges of black on her arms and face and she's concentrating. She also looks like she's enjoying herself. There's a yip from Phantom and Petrichor races by, followed by the fox kit and Charlie looks down, smiling.]

You, two. This is neither the time nor the place and---Phantom, you have chalkboard paint on your fur. Hypnos and Sonic aren't even half as crazy as you two. You should take notes from them.

[So much love and teasing in her voice when she talks to the animals. She notices the device but doesn't seem to mind that it's on,carefully setting the roller down in a tray of paint before crouching to pick the device up and raise it so the City no longer has a floor up view. She turns it to the wall for a moment.]

My landlady is awesome. She said I could do this and won't care if I suddenly vanish and it's still up. She said she has someone repaint, anyway, and has seen it all when it comes to painting the walls. Chalkboard painted walls are kind of a bucket-list thing for me, which at this point is kind of too late but whatever. This is fun.

[And the device shuts off so Charlie can keep working. She has a lot of wall to cover.]

[For those who haven't heard, Sam was sent to the library at Dean's request to help solve the rash of murders. Research is a thing he does, and right now, anyway, Sam's in his element. Which isn't to say he's gleeful, or anything of the sort. But he's businesslike and intense--and most importantly, not thinking about Jess or anything else.]

( WARNING: mention of rape and amputation )

[Hanna's looking rather grumpy, and...surrounded by balls of fluff.]

I hate tribbles. I forgot that all they do is breed and eat and be fluffy. The fluffy, I can stand, but everything else...

Does somebody want to help me clear these balls of fuzz out?