A strange new room. Imperial knights' clothes... That's strange, isn't it? And now a device that doesn't run on blastia...

[ There are sounds of the device being thrown and it lands on something soft and cushy-- and switches onto video. Now a man, or his body anyway, in a white suit and flowing cape ganked from Kaito Kid can be seen. ]

Sadly, I don't have time for games like this. Or-

[ He seems to spot something. ]

Maybe I do. Though, I doubt the Commandant would be bringing me home to his family anytime soon...

[ And as he laughs the feed ends. ]

( ooc )

M-Mamma...?

[A high piping voice, belonging to a distraught child. Fear in his wide bright eyes, tears shining on his cheeks. Round baby face. Five. He appears to be wandering in the gardens of Xanadu. His device lies in the grass, partially obscured by leaves and clustering petals. The boy doesn't see it. He's too busy glancing in all directions, little shoulders trembling with an effort not to sob. ]

Mamma? Where are you...?

MAMMA?!

[OOC: Have a Karl, City! Age-Reversed back to itty bitty proportions. No vampirism, no insanity, no bitterness. Just an ickle!Karl. Enjoy <333 Replies will come from tooscaryforme]

[A young, boyish face appears on the screen. Behind him is a technological wonderland, bright computer monitors and robots and holographics. He blinks owlishly at the screen before looking around.]

JARVIS... you said this was all mine, right? I made this?

THAT IS CORRECT, MR. STARK. SHALL I INFORM COLONEL RHODES AND MISS POTTS OF YOUR CURSED STATE?

Um... no, that's okay.

[Though his older self apparently put in some safeguards in case he were ever cursed without his memories, it's still a lot to process for an 8-year-old kid. Even a prodigal one. He plays around with the menu on the device, aware that it's recording but not exactly to what. He figures it's just the internal memory.]

This is neat.

[ooc | TINY!TONY HAS STRUCK :| All replies will be from ironmini]

 voice;

Finally after all of my hard work at avoiding people I get a break through.

[Suddenly! A flip to video there is a suit walking about with....no one in it.]

I hope you know what this means.

[ooc; no invisible icons because....lol]

[Raphael's on a park bench, a bag of what might be groceries but is probably mostly cigarettes on the sidewalk beside him. His pale blue button-down is emblazoned with a huge, ornate "F" in thick red embroidery, and to his own obvious irritation, he seems compelled to point it out.]

My entire wardrobe is covered in F's at the moment, but it's still one of the milder curses I've ever encountered.

... Now, is this supposed to stand for something? Formidable, flippant, flighty...

[and a pause, corner of his mouth tilting ever-so-slightly up for the camera]

Fornicator? The city must have been watching lately.

[He shrugs, as though there aren't a half-dozen other viable options, leaning back, fiddling aimlessly with a lighter from his pocket.]

There's worse ways to brand someone than this. Not all of them physical.

(OOC: Cursed with Scarlet Letter, to his own slight annoyance. ... Optional action for whoever wants to... share a park bench or possibly a cigarette with him as he mulls everything over.)

You know, I've been thinking. A lot of citizens have been getting pets lately, maybe I should get one too. For company.

[He speaks in between bites of food. This week he's trying Mexican and all manner of dishes are in front of him.]

Preferably something hairless, since I wouldn't want to inhale any fur and be sent to the hospital. Or anything that licks.

[The feed starts up with a very annoyed looking Cersei (although one could claim that is her general disposition, especially here). It also happens to show only from the top of her bare shoulders upward. Her hair is loose, and seemingly parted down the middle so that it falls before her, almost as if it were clothing.

Green eyes narrow, a livid expression marring her countenance, before she hisses.]

My attire appears to have gone missing. If one of you ingrates is behind it, I suggest you return it. Immediately.

[She can hope... And the thought that it is a strange thing to hope for has crossed her mind. The alternative is that this is a curse.]


[ooc: Black Bars Prevent Mental Scars~]

The City is tiresome. Less for what it is than for who is in it. Less for who they are than for what they do. Less for what they do than for the lack of thought behind it.

If they would stop and consider, if they would stop from rushing ahead even for a moment, most all of the problems in the City could be resolved. But, instead, there is misunderstanding and violence and lies and suffering. There's entirely too much pain and suffering and the people cry out for relief but they can have none because they have brought these things on themselves. And there's never more than a passing thought given, neither before nor after. I count myself guilty among them, yes, but I have given consideration to these things. There is pain that must be endured, sometimes. And one can consider this as well.

It's as though everyone seeks out the pain in which they find themselves. There is pain that must be endured and there is pain that can be avoided. There is some wisdom in knowing the difference. It's foolishness to fall into both and bewail the situation. Bewailing the situation at all is fruitless. Endure, contemplate, act, or be silent. It does no good to complain for its own sake. A cry for help, yes, that much is understandable. Complaining does nothing for pain, but that seems to be the only thing that ever happens here. No thought, no consideration, no decisions, but only complaints at finding oneself in pain. When forethought or consideration could have avoided it in the first place. Or made clear the reason for it, at least. Maybe complaints ought to be turned to contemplation, since complaints only make clear that one is in pain. Think on it for a while.

I would stand against it all but--

It's all familiar. And it's true: there is no new thing under the sun.

[ooc: Someone has a case of "No Inner Monologue." Everyone run. Katan thinks you are all immature :|]

[ Liam's face flashes into view just outside a nice restaurant and bar ] Don't forget, today is the first "Personal Assistant" cocktail hour. I do hope you managed to get all your work done. I know it's tough, but even PA's need to eat.

[ and he would dearly love not to eat alone once again. Oh well; he has his trusty PDA. Even if he must eat alone, he still has a way to clear up a few more loose ends of work. ]

((ooc: cursed with "Join the Club" curse.))

[Accidental Voice Post]

[It sounds as though she doesn't mean to set the device to record, seeing as it comes on in the middle of a sentence, and half muffled.]

-on't know what curse it is, but it's never been clearer that it is one.

[Now really, dear, is that any way to talk? After all, some might call our little gift a curse, but it couldn't be farther from the truth!]

Shut up. You know what I meant. This is a curse. You're a curse.

[Come on, Delphie, is that any way to talk to your dear, dead brother? After all, I think that I'm owed a little politeness. After all, you did kill me. Or, no, wait, it wasn't you, was it? It was that Vimes who did it. Couldn't even kill me yourself, could you?]

Shut up. You're not getting to me. No one else can even see you. You're not real.

[Whine?]

What? No, not like the flashing red- Wait, what flashing red light?

[Bark! Rrrr, bark. Arf?]

Damn. Yes, thank you. Good boy.

[/Voice Post]

[OoC: Ghost World curse! Red is her mother, green is her brother, Wolfgang, and blue is her father, who prefers being in his wolf form. Obviously none of them can be heard or seen by anyone but Angua.]

[VIDEO]

[Nothing but blue sky, for a moment, and then he sets it down on something, leaning slightly into the frame, but watching something further out. There's a faintly pleased curl to his lips.

In the sky a dark bird circles and wheels, never straying too far before it turns to float back towards this rooftop, as though held by an invisible tether.

After a minute or two the bird turns a final time, growing in size as with a few pumps of powerful wings it approaches the camera, settling mere feet away.]

Sentimental,

[a woman's voice murmurs, low and taunting. The man laughs, and the video ends.]

( Non-IC Cut for Image )

[VIDEO | Accidental]

[Frankie's trying to clean up the remains of a meal, and doing a pretty awful job of it. Mostly because he's doing it one-handed, while simultaneously trying to corral a squirming, dark-haired child.]

Least you're not picky.

[The little girl laughs as a fork and spoon clatter off the plate and onto the coffee table, and turns to shove her fingers in his face.]

Hey, hands to your --smnnfff.

[No such luck, Frankie, no such luck.]

[It seems that Raikov has no luck when it comes to curse weekends. The video starts up and Raikov is bed... and once again, there's someone else in bed with him. He yawns, stretches, and rolls over to find his face against... a pair of bare breasts.

He yells and practically falls out of the bed, dragging poor Isabela with him. Then he realizes that they're handcuffed together...]

Oh, /God Dammit./

[Isabela, covered just barely enough with the blankets to keep from giving the entire Network a free show, grins down at him.]

Oooh, I didn't realize you were so fiesty. This ought to be good.

[Oh. It's Isabela. He's not sure if that's worse. While she is amusing... He's afraid she might try and have her way with him.

Raikov brings his leg up to semi-cover himself from her]

Why couldn't you be affected by that gender curse now...

[Her eye rakes down his body (the other one being covered by an eyepatch), taking in every detail. She doesn't make a move, though -- either to have her way with him or get off of him.]

Is it my birthday? Or maybe the deities really like me after all.

[Raikov shudders, then looks around for some clothes. ... Too bad he's in Isabela's apartment. He hangs his head in defeat.]

And they must obviously hate me seeing this is the second time it's happened...


[OOC: Backdated to this morning. Raikov's swear word is in Russian.]

[The device turns on to show a shot of floor, then bed and ceiling and it bumps and comes to rest, a blanket starting to slide after that. Suddenly, a green teddy bear comes into view, slipping off the blanket and onto the device.]

Aaaaaah--ow!

[The yelling stops and the bear appears to be moving of its own accord to switch off the video feed.]

[ooc: backdated to morning! In the end, I couldn't resist.]