[Voice Post;]
[After a small slamming sound, we join our conversation, already in progress:]

Fuck--okay, no. This is exactly what all the readings pointed to, all right? From Day One. This is exactly it. Do I need to draw you another diagram or what? They ripped a fucking hole, okay? They ripped a hole, they got in, they started, I don't know, dancing naked on the mountain or whatever the hell they do--they're witches, man!

I didnt say they werent but you got to realize that you cant go runnin around like this and expect it to make a lick of difference when what you got to do is think straightlike.

What part of witches do you not get here, man? What part?

I believe I said I understood the entire thing.

They're in the City, man. We can't stop the curses and I swear that's when they're moving. We don't see them for days and then suddenly those spikes are back in all the readings. It's like...all that stuff gets stirred up and they're just eating it with a spoon. And it's not one or two here, okay? It's a fucking coven. A fucking coven of these inter-dimensional bitches--

There aint no reason for you to go using language like that.

--has ripped a way into the City for their own fun.

Seems kindly like you ought to remember what that girl said: didnt we rip a hole in here too?

Not a good time.

We got some witches in the City already so dont you forget that either. Good witches too. So dont tar them with the same brush. Theyre Cityzens the same as all the rest. No dont mind me I'm just tryin to be the voice of reason seein as you arent bein reasonable yourself.

Okay, fine. Fine. Okay. Okay. We're good. Step by step. Okay. So we've got two things to do: warn everyone because, ha ha, the "bad witches" (that suit you better?) are in the City now and then we've got to get the "bad witches" out again. They can't stay here. Not with all the crazy shit they're doing on top of curses. This place is dangerous enough as it is. We don't need their spells going on.

Okay, so, step by step, right? First we warn the Cityzens.

Likely they already know about it.

How cou-- [Blinking red "recording" light is blinking!] Oh, are you fucking kidding me?

[An angry sound and a slam as he slaps the Network device off again. Seems even would-be Deities have trouble with these things now and then.]
[//voice post ends]

[ooc: Tristero and Blackdog are having a discussion. That is, Tristero is upset and Blackdog is being rational and it's a bad scene. And this is in regard to the current witch invasion as they discuss what to do next! So, yes, consider this an announcement that there are creatures called "witches" in the City now. Watch out for those spells they're setting up this week...!]

[ With the moon Remus hasn't been able to check in with as many people as he would have liked. The uncomfortable feeling under his skin had forced him to spend a lot longer in the cabin, as though half afraid the wolf would come unbidden without the moon. Then the night itself he'd been stuck between too states, human with the monster in his eyes and he'd been glad when he'd woken up to find the door intact and the wards holding and his own blood the only taste in his mouth.

So when he appears on the feed, he looks tired, lips bitten but not really any worse for wear. He's had a few days to recover and now there's a more important matter to attend to. ] Hello --. Sorry, I would have gone to the proper authority on this but I don't know who that is. I'm just wondering if there's a defensive team within the City, maybe aur -- police. [ For a minute, Remus looks abnormally pleased with himself and those who don't know where he's from might just wonder why he's so happy about policemen.

It's short-lived between one step and the next, because the feed goes dark and there's an almighty crack. It runs for a few, long seconds of black void before his voice comes. ] Lumos.

[ Remus' device is on the ground, his wand now held in his hand. A scar across his knuckles is sharper now, his fist white and gripped. Around his ankle there's a tree root, gnarled and tightening with each second. It looks nothing like the trees within the City usually, colours wrong and filled in like waxy crayons. ] What --? [ But he knows before it acts, because the tree that has been growing from the cracks lifts him up, wood curled as though two seconds away from making sure Remus is a bloody splatter across the pavement. He's knows a tree like that quite intimately. But there's no knob this time, nowhere to aim his spell and imbolise it. ] Incendio.

[ It's not his best plan, but the tree catches fire before it can lift him to full height and he kicks at the smouldering branches before tumbling back to the ground. He lands on his ankle and the expression on his face is certainly not good, but Remus is too busy making sure the entire thing goes down in flames. He breathes heavily through his nose, and with a quietly whispered ferula, he splints up his ankle. Then his fingers are curling around the device and lifting it up. ]

So about your aurors. [ Grim and in pain. ] I'd like to speak to them. [ A pause. ] Though maybe a little later.

[It takes the witches nothing to draw him in, the weak-hearted little boy who has already wandered into the mists of his own volition once before.]

[He doesn't look afraid, he just looks sorrowful and pale, and like his skin is pulled too tight on his bones. The scenery dancing around him is also fairly benign: a room made of pine trees, the corners dusty and cob-webbed. There's a large oak table in the center, the surface of it scuffed and cut from long years of use, but still a handsome and imposing piece of furniture. From somewhere, the flicker of a hearth glows, casting dancing shadows across the impenetrable wall of tree trunks.]

[There is no one there with him, but he speaks out loud in a dead little voice,]

I've done the laundry. I did not speak to anyone.

[Monotone, mechanically spaced words. And then his mouth twists into a grimace, his head ducking down like he is avoiding the cold gaze of something.]

I haven't fed them yet. [And then, the sound begins. Like a woman screaming. Tallendi winces again, eyes screwing shut, but when he opens them, his expression is empty again.]

Yes, Momma.

[He exchanges his device into some else's hands--boney and disembodied--taking instead a woven basket that drips red. The video follows him as he walks towards a hole in the black dirt floor, cavernous, endless, and descends out of sight.]

( Private to Julie )

[Private filter to friends one single convo style? threadjacks encouraged?]


My birthday is coming up soon and I'd like to get so shitfaced that I don't remember what happened the day before. Parties aren't the biggest focus back home, and I'd like a big one.

Who wants to help me plan one?

Also, please tell me you guys are okay.