( Private Thoughts || Off the network in some sequestered moleskine no doubt. )


][ a u d i o ][

[ already deeply annoyed. deeply. no need to go deeper. and yet... ]

I like my clothes, but I wasn't looking for it to be a mutual thing. And--

--what the he--

[ --cut off by more muffled curse since someone just had to duck an especially violent bedside lamp. ]



[ooc: house is not a home....and the clothes do not make the man...except today they do. Kind of. Anyway one more thing: always thank you for dealing with the spotty tagging / blind turtle's pace ;_; abuh appreciation all around...and again thank you to whoever gifted ._. /hopes you see this.... ]

...Wow, seriously? [there is sound of a something crashing in the background. she just winces slightly but she still tries to continue what she was saying] What is this supposed to be some attack of the inanimate objects?

I guess staying inside today is definitely not safer like it usually would be.

[Waving at the camera...is a tiny, silent doll that looks like Tyr! Next to him is a Rita doll. They just might be familiar to some people (yes, these dolls are still around). Their stubby little hands--with their magnets inside--are stuck together like they're holding hands, while Rita-doll's other magnetic hand has a little metal disc stuck to it. A couple curious cats in the background are very unsure about these living dolls.

And then comes one (1) real Rita who angrily grabs the device away from them.]

S-stop being such a pain! You're acting like-

--just like we normally do, and it's weird...

[Because it's just her right now and she isn't even pretending to not be bothered that Tyr's portrait was in the Hall of the Missing. And she can't quite bring herself to kick the sappy dolls.]

I'm just gonna lock you in a room until this stupid thing's over. Who made these things, anyway...?

[ooc: Tyr is gone from the City for just a week since Wednesday! But of course, Rita doesn't know how short is disappearance will be.

Also I have some errands to run so I might be a little slow with tags today. ;v;]

[Behold a view of Bruce's lab in City Solutions. In the corner, the coffee machine is spraying hot brown liquid. Lights are blinking crazily on and off, and Bruce is fending off a robot arm that seems determined to douse him in some kind of yellow foam while he fights his way to the lab door.

It looks like he might not make it, but a coat rack with a manically waving lab coat hung on one of its hooks rolls into view and gives Bruce enough time to get out the door, slamming and locking it.

The perspective changes, for the first time making it clear that this video transmission is coming from the lab's security cameras, showing Bruce pulling his network device out of his pocket.]

Security.

[The video blinks out and suddenly the feed is coming from his communicator's camera.]

Security, lock down the research floor for the day. You...ah... might want to check the rest of the building while you're at it.

[Behind him, the mesh-inforced glass window on the lab door suddenly floods with yellow foam and Bruce jumps in surprise before breaking into a trot, heading down the hall.]

This is another one of those hinky City things, right?

[The Stark phone's feed is jumbled and half obscured by a pale hand with black polished nails, but it can still film the seven, knee-high garden gnomes converging on Serrure, each with an apple in an outstretched hand and plenty of half bitten, crushed apples around him.]

I said no apples. See? Full. Very full. Perhaps if you baked them in a pie or with some brown sugar sauce like that bakery-

[And a well aimed apple is now between Serrure's teeth, he takes a step back and something hits the back of his knees. Losing his balance he falls backwards, landing inside a clear container. The phone shifts just in time for the clear glass lid to come slamming down, sealing the glass coffin.

He spits out the apple.]

What are you- [Banging on the side with a closed fist.] Still alive in here. [But the forest animals have all ran off and the gnomes are busy arranging flowers around the base of the coffin. Serrure looks to the phone, starting to feel a bit fuzzy from the poison apples.]

Ah- help?

The roof has serious objections to being fixed!  I repeat, the roof, it does not want to be fixed!  Home improvements are officially a no go!

[The picture focuses in on the roof of the cabin before the frame spins to show Isaac standing a little way away in the forest, speaking to the camera in a rather loud stage whisper.]

I seriously think I hurt the roof tiles feelings.  At first the kept rearranging so I couldn't fix the stupid holes in the roof and then shouted at it that a roof doesn't actually work if it's full of holes and like seven tiles threw themselves off the roof before I could apologise!  Suicidal roof tiles!

Oh and the roof, totally in a worse state than when I started.