[Those familiar with Lockdown may recognize his avatar, if just by the tattoos alone. Today, however, instead of his usual casual clothes, his clothes look really ragged and he has dirt on his face, as if he hasn't bathed in days and he has five-o-clock shadow. Across his back is a shotgun.]

If there's one thing I can say about this city, it's the fact that there ain't any walkin' dead. Things nearly took a bite out of me once.

Right now, I just need a stiff drink.

[/End video]

[OOC: Genre switch. He's now a zombie movie protagonist.]

[The feed opens to nothing but the winter-clouded sky and a smattering of airy laughter. A second later Saya rolls into view, her dark hair dampened by chunks of the snow she's rolling in. A playful shake of her head -- accompanied by another whimsical giggle -- casts about half of it off.]

It's beautiful. [Saya stretches out on her stomach, chin pillowed by a tuft of snow, and winks at the camera. Her attire is more suited for spring but the only sign of her noticing the cold is a pleasant pink dusting on her cheeks.] Come and play with me! I don't like being alone. [However heavy the sentiment sounds, she says it with mirthful joy.]

[And then she's rolling kittenishly onto her back, arms and legs stretched out and sweeping lazily through the snow. It's a day to make angels.]


((OOC: Anti-angst curse! No sads for the broodmistress today. /o/ ))

[Mike looks paler than usual. Also, he's rather futilely got his coat on and a quilt wrapped around him. He knows it's not helping but. He's possibly a little bit worried about it feeling WORSE if he takes them off? Whatever.

He could have just called Ty, but admittedly, he wants to complain publicly, now that it doesn't matter because everyone knows everything anyway.]

Ty: your powers are shit. If you're still in your ice castle, get the hell out of it. [pause...] What about slushies, can you taste those?

What a strange little looking glass.

[ Hands turn the device over, letting the feed capture the yellow and pink of a woman's dress before it settles on her face. For those who know Clary, they'll figure out pretty quick that this is not her usual attire. Nor is her accent - softer today than it usually is.

She's sitting in the apartment she shares with Jace and Mae, but she seems too much out of place. Like someone's blurred the image she usually presents. She sighs, a wisp of her hair fluttering above her head. ]

How can a mirror show me other people's lives? If it is magic it's nothing like I've ever seen. [ Talking to herself as if that will help her work it out. She touches the top of her finger to the camera, then seems to think better of it. ]

( ooc: Clary's been genre switched. So now she's more fairy tale than usual. Replies will come from godsgrace. )

[ACCIDENTAL VIDEO]

[The enormous closeup of a palm is probably a solid clue that Aziraphale has hit the wrong button. He sets the device on a counter-- the kitchen, obviously-- and proceeds to roll up his sleeves, turning on the tap and squeezing soap into the sink.

He's about to reach on in and start the dishes before he pauses, glancing up at nothing in particular before turning of the water, and reaching for his network device again. After another detail shot of his hands, the video switches off.]


[TEXT; UNINTENTIONALLY PUBLIC]

Dulcie, darling, I nearly lost track of the day. What shall we do for our date night?


[ooc; this bit of domesticity brought to you by Aziraphale's imaginary marriage to Dulcie :3]

Good little flower
Bloom for old Uncle Crowley
And you get to live

[ooc: Delivering a haiku-encouragement to his plants. All replies will be haikus.]

[VOICE]

I do remember, I always used to wonder what it would be like to leave and come back... Whether I'd know where I was, or whether it would seem vaguely familiar but foreign. I know I didn't remember any of this at home... [which is probably for the best. She pauses a long moment before continuing.] It's a little fuzzy, but I know where I am, so it could be worse.

Or maybe I'm only imagining I've left. It wouldn't be the strangest thing to happen, here. That much I'm sure of.

I guess I'll see at midnight. That's still how it works, isn't it?


[ooc; Age Reversal, or rather... fast forwarding. Replies from her blonde account, popsong_wisdom-- just pretend she's, uh, heavily pregnant. Open to action around the City, she's just sight-seeing. Hit me ooc if you've questions or want anything special <3]

[A lady is using Luke's device, evidently, and it's not even the EXPECTED lady to be using Luke's device.]

Everything is very slightly off, today, so I'd like to straighten a couple of things out, and sort all the rest out for myself.

I go by a lot of names, but it's probably simplest if you settle with Loki, for now. I realise there's another one here. There are probably two Joes here as well. I imagine you'll live.

I think we might well work solely off of that.

David, when you come home, or strike a match, don't fret. I think there's been a swap.

[Marishka smiles as she comes on, a streak of red on her face, a bit in her hair. It's not really clear what that could be, maybe it's just paint.

Either way, she turns the screen towards a red painting she did. She's done several today but she's really liking this one. Not because it's especially grand or anything.

But she loves the chaos.]

Such a pretty color, yes~?

[She giggles.]

I have done many today and wish still to do more. They are so lovely and so...red~

Is is potato bullpotato.

And yes, this have been going on all potato day.

[Video]
[Rido Kuran stretches up his hand, watching the blood stream in thin rivulets down his arm. Unlike most, the Pureblood does not seem to be disturbed in the slightest bit at the pooling blood around his feet. A pool that grows larger as the seconds tick by...

He smiles, and laughs softly at this 'gift' from the deities.]


Hehehe~ ... this again?



[ooc: Out Damned Spot! curse.]

[Carla Marianna Morir is the youngest child and only daughter of Jorge Morir and his wife Kaitlin. Jorge was a quiet and distant man with a hand for manipulating others. While Kaitlin was...

Rather high-strung and melodramatic and indomitably nosy.]

Not that I'm naming any names, of course, but it's a sham of a marriage. What kind of woman continues to work after she's engaged, even? Doesn't she have a book club she could have joined? For God's sake.

[Carla is relating this to a hapless waiter. She also appears to be drinking, which is red-flag number two.]

And before you go-- [Oh no, little waiter, you can't escape.] I need you to take back this dish, I'm afraid it tastes a bit like... well, cleaning fluids, frankly.

[Her smile is thin and condescending. Red-flag number three. Carla never sends back food.]