[So, after this weekend, Victoria went to her room and used up all of her crayons and probably broke a few dozen colored pencils to color a picture on the wall. It's in view now. It's of a very, very smiley man holding boxes and a woman and child with expressionless faces staring up at a house surrounded by trees. Victoria's adding finishing touches to one of the trees and she knows the camera is on, but she doesn't look at it directly.

Instead, she's busy frowning at what she's drawing.]

My parents died when I was three. Carla and Mr Fletcher aren't my mom and dad. That was a curse.


[And she wasn't impressed, City.

That being said, though, she has a question.]

Carla, can we still draw?

[She kind of liked that. A lot.]

[ video ]

Two things!

[Behold Ginny Weasley, the camera enchanted to float in front of her as she broadcasts this from... Her broom? That's right; she's back where she belongs, up in the air and the summer wind pulling at her hair and clothes, face alight in a smile. She looks infinitely better than she did a week ago, that's for certain.]

Firstly, I believe I owe drinks to quite a few people for the madness that was a few weeks ago. The Anonymous people graciously paid me in liquor from my world for helping restore the Hall of the Missing and it's not like I can drink all of it by myself—have you seen me? I'm too small for all that firewhiskey.

Priority goes to all my doctor friends, because I said so.

Secondly, FLYING LESSONS!

[Yes, it's about as loud as capslock.]

I usually offer this earlier in the summer but there's that little matter of a City-wide rebellion and being struck down with a magical plague, so I decided I'd best wait it out until people were a little more available, myself included.

I know I've spoken to a few people about this—Sulu? Stiles?—but it's open to anyone who's interested in brooms and isn't afraid of heights. I've never had anyone fall while I'm in the air with them, so don't worry! It's fun.

And if someone just wants to watch, come along. This is something I love, why not share it in any way I can?

That's all!

[AND OFF SHE ZOOMS, the camera following her for a minute as she speeds around the Quidditch pitch the twins built, corkscrewing and ~soaring, tumbling, freewheeling~ through the air. And it cuts out as she whips past the device.]

[ The feed starts with an unoccupied frame; the image of a small but well-organized kitchen. The doors to the pantry and the cabinets above and below the counter top are all open revealing a well-stocked reserve of food. Plentiful as the stores may be, it seems as though something is missing.

Al steps into the frame to close the cabinets before he addresses the screen. ]

Around here they take people, maybe some dignity here and there if you let 'em...but petty theft? Nobody likes a thief whether it's a curse or just some chump acting alone. Who makes off with pots and pans without making a sound?

[ This is problematic, not just for a hungry man, but for one that finds relaxation in the act. It's a reprieve from work, which has been profitable as of late. ]

These past few weeks haven't been easy on anyone, so in exchange for borrowing some cookware I'm more than happy to pay the generosity forward. I can cook any kind of real food, whatever you're craving or you miss from home.

[ He contemplates this offer for a moment. Home has a different spectrum here, he has come to find. ]

If it can't be done, well, there's always spaghetti.

[ The problem with being pulled into another dimension is that, whatever means by which the pulling is being done, they generally don't particularly care for where you are or what you're doing when they grabs you, nor do they care where you're being dumped. Take, for instance, a young Starfleet Ensign who's been working in his ship's Jefferies tubes. The City certainly doesn't care that he was climbing down a utility ladder connecting one deck's tubes down to another, doesn't care that he's suspended precariously on the rungs, and doesn't care that it's plucking him right off of them.

So it is that he winds up still mid-descent, the starship he was just on quite suddenly gone as he finds himself in the air a few feet above a fountain. Naturally, without the ladder rungs to hold him, he falls with a dramatic splash. The video feed on the network cuts on at this point, as the device he has no idea he's been given falls, hitting the side of the fountain, activating just before it hits the ground.

After a few moments of splashing and groaning, the device catches an upward angle of a very well-soaked Harry Kim as he pulls himself over the side of the fountain, his hair down and sticking to his forehead. His only commentary is muttered to himself, as he examines his surroundings with a confused gaze rather than spare a glance to the ground where the device lay. ]

What now... ?

[Isaac’s face appears on the device, looking troubled and confused. He scratches the back of his head pensively while thinking of the right words to say.]

Uh, hey, I guess? I literally just got here, wherever here is, and I’m kinda lost. If anyone could help me get back home it’d be great. [He sighs]

There’s a lot going on back home and I’m worried about my p- [He cuts the word off] My friends.

I mean, there has to be some way to get back, right? Even though I don’t remember how I got here...

[He’s quite clearly at a loss. Its been a while since he had to deal with things by himself and he finds himself caught off guard by the sudden feeling that he was lacking something he didn’t realise he was relying so heavily on. He drops his arm, taking his face momentarily out of sight while breathing deeply, trying to come to some kind of decision of where to go, what to do when he catches a familiar scent, one that he’s had to track before.

Suddenly his face comes back into view, some degree of nervous excitement spanning across his features, after all if he was right then that means he wasn’t totally alone.]

This might sound weird but uh, Stiles... are you here?

[He stares into the screen of the communicator as if trying to will the other boy into existence because if Stiles was here, and Isaac definitely knew that scent then that meant that other people could be here, his pack.

He wouldn’t risk howling, not right now at least in the unfamiliar territory but it was something he kept in the back of his mind while heading in the direction of the nearest building.]