[ fail!filtered from the pandora hearts cast ]

[ someone's been brooding for the past several days, and not even the chance to play with cute kittens has made him feel much better. he's been pondering over things, and very specific things too, but hasn't yet figured out how to go about doing said things.

which is why he's turning to the city now. ]

If you want answers to something, but no one will tell you, what's the best way of getting those answers for yourself?

[ and it's fail-filtered because he still doesn't really understand technology, okay. :( ]

(( OOC: Spoilers for The Angels Take Manhattan in this post. Also this is the same Doctor, I just got a bit weird and changed his journal. ))

[ When the feed starts it picks up the shadow of the Hall of the Missing behind the lone figure holding on to the device. The Doctor may not have looked all that different but for the lining of his face. He looks tired, defeated. A small printed peice of paper sticks out of his pocket at an awkward angle and he hums softly. ]

Hello again, City. It's been a while. Well, for me, I don't suppose all that much time has passed since for you. The weather hasn't even changed. [ A pause. ] Nevertheless, it would appear I'm too late either way. [ Amelia's gone. He'd thought, hoped, that when he'd arrived back she would be waiting with a smile on her face and a cluck of her tongue to tell him how stupid he'd been. But her name is in the building behind him, and he's lost her here too. He's alone.

And he'd promised, god, he'd promised. Never them. His hearts twist and for a moment he thinks about just giving up. Who cares what the deities want with him? Why should he bother about the City and all of its foolish, wonderful inhabitants when his best friend in all the worlds and the one person he'd finally been able to trust isn't even here --.

But he's the Doctor, and the words she'd written him burn in his pocket as a reminder. He physically tries to pull himself together with a brisk shake of his head. ] Could someone kindly fill me in on what I've missed? I feel like I need to catch up.

[It's hard to tell what the gentleman is thinking as a pair of sunglasses cover half his face. From the tone of his voice it's easy to tell that he's exasperated, tired and pissed off. He's dressed in a very expensive business suit that is currently a bit singed, has some blood on it, and very rumpled. Clearly someone has been busy before they arrived here and hasn't had a chance to change.]

Another kidnapping? Really. Don't you people ever get tired of it?

I have to say it's pretty good for a kidnapping. I mean, I didn't even feel the transfer and that's damn hard to do.

[He pauses and looks around to get a better sense of his surroundings.]

Are you fair folk? It doesn't feel like Faery.

[That said, he shrugs dismissing the matter out of hand. Faery or not, he's still been kidnapped after all. That's what needs to be dealt with.]

Anyway. It'd be best to let me go back right now for everyone's sake. My father will be pissed off when he finds me missing and his temper is already frayed and my fiancee will be pissed off and her temper is even more frayed.

This seems like a nice place, if odd. So instead of pissing off the god of the dead and the warmage just let me go home and I won't mention it. This will save a lot of lives in the long run.

I've got enough on my plate already.

Please, don't add any more.

[ As the weather has gotten cooler, the days shorter, Berthier has grown more comfortable in this city. During the day, however, with the sun overhead, she can still be found most often with her parasol up to shade her fair skin. She's on the main square today, moving at a sedate pace along the shop-fronts, looking into the window displays. Perhaps it's just a little idle shopping, her expression does not give away anything nefarious as she considers each establishment in kind.

She's taken out her device with the clear intent to say something, however, she's cut off short when a strong gust of autumnal air catches at her light skirts and well...]



[The parasol is dropped, and is taken out into the street by the wind, but she doesn't care much, is hurriedly trying to flatten down her skirts, looking (as one might imagine) very flustered. Her device is on the sidewalk at her feet now, and she stares down at it with a faint flush, mouth opening to say something, but her usual snide manners can't quite compensate for such a scene. Eventually she determines,]

Better today than yesterday.

[It's a poor consolation, and with her hands still fisted in her skirts to keep them flat, she turns off her device by giving it a nice swift stomp with her high-heeled boot.]


[[ooc; It's canon. I couldn't resist. Action more than invited o7]]

Well. These past few curses have been particularly awful.

Apologies to anyone who died or was maimed when I- we- ran amuck. It was the curse, I swear it is so.

Which brings me to my point, in an effort to try and ensure this does not happen again, I need someone to volunteer, to give consent for me to try and use a magical means to attempt to break the City's hold on them when next they are cursed.

Volunteers?