( Action for Neil & Todd / Off-Network In All Conceivable Ways )

[Public Voice Post]

I don't remember if this has been asked before, but is there any apparent pattern where the handcuff curse is concerned? Are the participants usually friends? Enemies? Strangers? Given the unlikelihood that I would be handcuffed to a friend, I can't believe it's coincidence.

[And if you know Justin, you will also know that he has three friends in a vast City. The odds of randomly being attached to one of them are slim to none.]

It's nothing important. It just seems that there's significance in what happens here more often than not.

Once upon a time, there was a girl called Ruby, with hair as red as fire. Ruby hailed from a far away kingdom called New York, but she had been kidnapped from her homeland and taken to a place known only as the City. As day dawned on one particular morning in the City, the sunbeams broke through the window and roused the maiden from a deep and peaceful slumber, in the tower where she resided. It was a well-earned slumber, too, for the previous day fair Ruby had been on a quest, roaming the city and searching far and wide to find cigarettes for her employer, Meyer, a Prince of her homeland of New York, a quest in which she had been ultimately unsuccessful.

Today, as Ruby rises from the comfort of sleep, she finds that the small, ornate silver box she prizes so dearly had been returned to her, adorning the otherwise bare window sill, glinting in the morning sunlight. Having bathed and dressed in a green chiffon dress of her own design, Ruby takes one of the small white sticks from the silver box and leans in the window of her room as the fluffy white clouds drifted lazily through the azure sky, watching the people come and go from the other towers, listening to the stream of water from the fountain, feeling quite content.

She spends the afternoon curled comfortably in one corner of her sofa, held in rapt attention by a leather bound tome she had borrowed from the library, that most wondrous institution that Ruby was only beginning to discover now she away from the bright lights of her homeland, before she heads to work. Dressed in her finest gown, back in New York she could easily have been mistaken for a noble lady as she made her way to the establishment in which she was currently engaged, but this could be no further from the truth: she's just a humble troubadour, a minstrel displaced from her proper place and time, wishing only to share the music of that place and time with the city, should they have the inclination to listen.

[OOC: Ruby is under the effects of the Tell Me A Story curse. Feel free to run into her at her apartment, around the city, or at Lucky's.]

[ VOICE ]

[From the sound of it, the angel has no idea he's being recorded.]

You know, it's not that I mind this City, exactly; it's less pleasant some days than others, to be sure, but all in all I can accept I'm meant to be here, whether or not I know why. Ineffability and all that. One gets used to it, after a time, and certainly I've had plenty of that.

Still, it is... well, between you and I, if I'm honest, it's a bit lonesome at the moment. My fault, really, for being a bit of a creature of habit. But I'm hardly accustomed to, er, these sort of comings and goings.

[There's a soft huff of breath which he will insist is not a sigh, and a faint rustling in the background.]

But, one never knows. I'd best keep you in some semblance of presentable shape, or I'll never hear the end of it if Crowley does come back.



[ooc; no inner monologue, so he's soliloquizing at Crowley's houseplants. between Crowley being out-on-hiatus and Dulcie leaving, sad angel is saaaad]

( blame it on my ADD, baby. )

( ooc: so Stiles has been hit with the list curse. Under the cut is something that is predictably not safe for work and literally too much information. I am so sorry. )

[There appears to be a very small boy sitting next to an Irish Setter who's actually taller than him when they're both sitting like this. The boy looks remarkably perplexed by the fact that he is a) not where he is supposed to be and b) in the company of a dog who's very happy to see him, and he will just be darned if he knows how he got here.]

Um... can someone help me? I don't know where I am and my mom's gonna be real mad if I'm late for dinner again. The boat's gonna leave without me if I'm not back soon.

[That's right, suddenly tiny Riku, pretend you're not freaking out and everything will be a-ok, even if you have no idea where you are or how you got here.

Dogs though, being wonderfully empathetic animals, can be extremely reassuring, as Axel demonstrates by proceeding to lick the stoic little boy on his face, causing him to giggle.]

H-hey! Cut that out! ...Does anybody know whose dog this is?

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( [ PRIVATE: ARTHUR W ] )

[ ooc: I'M A PROFESSIONAL DAY u//u Eames and Al Capone own a laundry service that masks a gangster service. They just happen not to be very good at one of those two. Also pretend this went out Saturday morning orz

the mozambique press may or may not involve cement I'm just saying ]

Oh, God.

[DEEP BREATH. Hello, Poly. Does Peter sound a bit different? Extreme discomfort aside.]

It's because I had a quiet month all February, isn't it. This is some sort of - cosmic payback. Even my voice sounds different. This is beyond disconcerting.

Tell me - someone please tell me - that this is temporary.

[HE WANTS HIS MONEY BACK. So to speak.]

[replies will come from onsets! When I actually set it up.]

All right, here's a poll I've been postponing. Raise your hand if you've at some point in your lives - long or short - felt a dangerous and inexplicable attraction towards the tall, dark, and handsome. I'm very keen to note whether it's one of those disorders that affect people regardless of gender, or not.

Bonus points will be given if they solve their problems with fire, or are emotional walls.

I'll start - yes.

private; stiles, text;

status report

[ooc; No curse, just curiosity.]