[It's muffled and Charlie's laughing. There's soft thumping sounds and the device is dropped. Phantom yips a few times before he scrambles away and Charlie picks the device up.

Crazy animal. He needs a walk. [And since she's cursed as hell. Mother. Ariadne. Which one of you wants to come with me while I take Phantom for a run? He's driving me insane today.

[ooc: Charlie's been Family Day'd again. She thinks she has a mother and sister. Her mother? None other than Sif.]

[ the feed flickers on to show a girl, no older than eighteen, giving the device something of a squint; a mark of annoyance, irritation as she rakes a hand through still damp hair, before she lifts her brown gaze away from it, to look around the place. ]

Well...at least I'm not back in Mystic Falls. [ It's a passing remark, before returning her attention to the feed, her initial look of irritation holding, mixing with curiosity. ]

[ A beat.] This is all just a bit...rude, don't you think? Getting dumped into a fountain hell knows where? [ how did anyone even manage to sneak up on her, let alone bring her here? ] I hope no one thinks that a new phone makes up for the ruined clothes and derailed plans. [ her voice drips with disapproval. By the sound of it, someone clearly had plans to attend to, and the girl was none too happy about them being cut short.]

[ she pushes out a sigh.] I think at this point, I'd actually appreciate any information anyone gives me.

[ Her eyes narrow just a fraction, momentarily, before she ends the feed.]

[ video ]

... is this—oh, alright, it is.

[The voice may be familiar to many, and the face in essence too, but as Ginny Weasley leans back from the camera to address the network, it might be clear to those who know her that she's different today. For one, she's wearing her Gryffindor uniform, all robes and tie and cardigan. For another, she's younger and thinner—almost drawn, and though her eyes are as quick and bright as ever, they carry a wariness and weariness that haven't been present in years. Her hair is still long, though shorter than she's been wearing it in the City, and there's no mistaking the still-healing split lip or faded bruising along her cheekbone and eye.

None of this seems to bother the witch at the moment, though. There are more important matters to attend to.]

Hullo. I seem to have taken a wrong turn at school—not unusual, really, the stairs like to play tricks—but I was on my way to a classroom and ended up in this, er, charming place. And while I'm terribly fond of London, I know this isn't it; and honestly, I'm running late as it is.

[There's a hardness in her jaw and in her tone that the City softened long ago, but she isn't demanding answers like she had the moment she 'arrived.' She has her bearings, now. To an extent. She pauses, then smiles, shaking off the very real irritation for a more charming façade; come, now, help the innocent school girl find her way home.]

Hardly back a month from holidays and I've already got loads of things to do! I'm not usually late, you know. I don't mind missing a few minutes of Professor Carrows' class, for example— [She chuckles, shrugging.] —but I'm sort of in charge of this meeting and they're all fairly useless without me. I've read a guide, of course, but I don't exactly trust everything I read nowadays.

Thank you for your time.


[OOC; ginny's been hit with Feels Like the First Time! she's back to being 16 years old and for her, it's february of 1998, so she's still at hogwarts and helping neville lead the DA and causing general havoc with the student's rebellion.

she won't remember any CR she's made in the city for the duration of the curse because to her, this is her first time arriving here. it will all come back to her tomorrow, of course. enjoy!]

It seems to me like the City right now has no end of dark times right about now. [ The curses, while some are amusing, don't exactly endear him. ] I know it's not fair, having your lives played about with like it's a ball of twine preyed upon by cats. But we're all in this together, and that's important. I would hope that people held fast to that thought.

If ever anyone needed to just talk, the hat shop is always open.

[This is a public post, intentional, and mostly just venting because he can. He'll be chain smoking during this and drinking from a bottle of beer and becoming increasingly incoherent. He's wearing a black undershirt and jeans. His feet are bare. He's sitting on his bed, legs crossed, while he speaks.]

So, what a weekend, huh? The network's been busy as hell with people getting fucked in the head. Again. I read the posts and I don't even know what to say anymore. As someone on the outside and not being cursed this time?

[He shakes his head.]

I don't know whether to laugh or cry as you shit yourselves in public. Jes-us. I think we all need to see shrinks before we completely lose our fuckin' minds or maybe we should just get shit-faced together.

[He shrugs and has a sip of beer.]

Whatever...

I have been lucky escaping curses this month. The curse where people were trying to eat other people--

[He trails off as a more distant voice becomes far louder. The tone, however, clearly indicates whining.]

Peter, please, I am recording.

[Peter's indistinct complaints fade to an irate murmur.]

That was a curse I did not care for. But in better news, I have found Peter. Howl, Sophie, Tessa? I am bringing him to the house; it seemed cruel to leave him on his own. He may not agree, but he's not good at taking care of himself.

[There's a protest from Peter. Chekov shushes him.]

Also, Tessa? We need to talk, I think.

[ SLAM.

the groan of a drawer pulling open. tap tap. tap. tap tap tap. tap. tap.

and SLAM again—before the drawer creaks open one last time. ]

Che, figured. [ ... ] Uh. Sorry ... about that.

[ a slightly overlong silence before the feed switches off. ]

( VOICE | filtered to Yuri Lowell )