Event Log: Keepsakes

[hadrielmods]

Who: Everyone participating in the event!
What: The event log for the Keepsakes event!
Where: All around the city
When: October 15th-October 19th
Warnings: A bunch of random crap.

Well, Hope and Delight are messing with the door again, but at least this time dragons aren't involved, right? This attempt goes a bit better - sure, no one gets sent home, but if everyone will just look under their seats, they'll find a FREE [INSERT SOMETHING YOU MAYBE DIDN'T WANT AT ALL HERE]! Awesome! So nice! Yup, throughout these few days people will be finding things from home - something they loved, something they used all the time, something they hated, something they totally forgot they even had. All sorts of cool stuff!

Well, they might not actually find it. Their neighbor might, or a complete stranger. And who knows where it could turn up? At the park, half-buried? In the Silent Hill zone, kept safe by a horrifying monster? Or hey, maybe in somebody's underwear drawer. Awkward. Better try to find your stuff, or find the owner of whatever weird crap you found. It could be something important.

► This log covers October 15th-October 19th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you somehow manage to die in this event, please let us know here, and also what the hell?

Comments

sans | ota, literally all over the city

[skelebro]

don't forget; open to one

[The first thing to appear is his notebook.

There isn't any real rhyme or reason to its organization. It looks like any other kind of battered, disorganized sheaf of papers bound together on graph paper. Shuffling through it will yield little besides a compendium of various drawings, graphs, mathematical equations, charts of an...interesting caliber. One might look like this. Another might look like this, or this, or this.

'Course, you're equally likely to discover something like this buried in there. Most of these drawings and equations seem...incomplete, somehow. There's a couple pages that seem to be nothing more than just a solid mass of tally marks.

And then, near the end, there's a pair of photographs paperclipped to the notebook's cardboard backing. One of them is a poorly-drawn picture of three people. Written clumsily on it are the words: don't forget. The other is...

. . .

I̵t̴ ̶s̴h̷o̶u̸l̷d̶ ̷n̶o̶t̸ ̴b̴e̵ ̴h̷e̶r̴e̵.̷

open to anyone and everyone;

There's an awful lot of pages inexplicably scattered over the city. You might find them under your bed, on the seat of your chair, fluttering through the streets as they get breezed along by whatever burst of air friction disrupted their hiding spot. Maybe they end up in your breakfast, in your pantry, on the roof of your home. Maybe they get pinned between door and door-jamb and simply linger there forlornly until you retrieve them.

The point is - there seems to be a lot of them. An awful lot of them, and no way to tell who they might belong to. A quick look at them, however, will quickly tell you one thing: they are most certainly not written in any kind of standard English. The parts that aren't written in an array of arcane symbols seem to denote various mathematical equations.

There is a binder into which all of this inexplicably abstruse research is meant to be collated, but someone else has it.

[chanting] WINGDINGS HELLSCAPE WINGDINGS HELLSCAPE

[sciencelizard]

[Getting used to living with people again is Weird.

Alphys has spent the better part of the last few years living alone. Sure, her... 'creations' were in her lab with her, but where she slept, and dressed, and showered was separate. No one was around to chide her about eating a brick of ramen without cooking it at 2 in the morning. There were repercussions if she forgot to put on a shirt. And worse than both of those, people were... asking after her? Seeing if she was okay? Maybe not even asking in so many words, just sort of... gentle nods, seeing she was still there. Checking.

It was weird. It was really, really weird.

So today she's a little hypervigilant. Making sure she's wearing clothes, doesn't look like a total disaster, going to eat food at a time people Typically Eat Food In The Middle Of The Day, except she just woke up and nobody needs to know that, and there's a... paper. Crammed partway in a crack in the wall. Which, she's pretty sure wasn't there yesterday, and who would put it in th--

Darker darker yet darker--

She grabs the chair for support, eyes flitting over the page. No. No, this isn't that. Just... symbols. Yes. Symbols. Symbols she Doesn't Know and Shouldn't Ask About and oh god is he here.

She might just collapse in the kitchen. it's fine. this is a-ok 100% Fine.]

bucky (the soldier) ota

[wipedclean]

[before the chair]

[He wakes up to find a rubber bit on the pillow next to him. He knows this thing. It's not a reminder of a... pleasant circumstance, necessarily, but it's a reminder of routine. Familiar, logical routine.

He takes it, and chews on it a little.

Familiarity. Routine.

He gets up and walks around the city, checking on the damage the dragons left, all the while absentmindedly chewing on the bit in his mouth. After a while... he might not even realize it's still there.]

[the chair (closed to Will Graham)]

[He's doing his rounds of the city, a patrol, as it were, rubber bit still in his mouth, when he gets to the lake.

He sees it immediately, and his jaw tightens around the bit in his mouth in remembered pain. But he can't look away, he can't leave, he has... he has to go toward it.

It's the chair, of course. He knows it even better than the bit in his mouth. But the chair isn't comforting in any way.

Still. He walks to it.

Will being there is almost an afterthought, until he realizes the man's been tinkering with it. He glares at Will, and growls.]

Don't touch it.

[after the chair]

[He sits by it, broods, staring at it.

He sits in it, his hands clenched, waiting. But no one comes. No one who should come, anyway. The chair is here, but there's no handlers, no doctors, no technicians. The chair is here, but Hydra isn't, and the dissonance it's causing is more upsetting than the chair's existence at all. It's a reminder of the mission he should be on, that he should have completed months ago, but was interrupted, prevented from completing.

It's a reminder of what he is, and how far from that he's deviated. He can't reconcile it in his mind. He should be one thing, but instead he's... become something else. It's not right. He needs to be corrected, but there is no one here to correct him, despite the presence of the tool used for the job.

He can't... think about it, but he can't stop thinking about it. He's ripping himself apart from the inside, and he can't stop. He's a monster, and not even the monster he's supposed to be.

He ends up running, hiding, running again. He can't stay still. He can't stop for long. Where are his handlers? What is his mission? What's his whole reason for existing if he doesn't have those things?]

[or create your own starter]

[feelslikeimspilling]

[ After the whole upheaval of arriving here, what with the Dragons and trying not to die from various elements and factors against him, Will had taken it upon himself to get find what he believed would be the most relaxing place in the Caved-City. The Lake.

Sure, he had no boat, no fishing rod or gear but being by the water soothed Will (even if there were things hiding under the surface that wouldn't think twice about dragging him under and killing him. He didn't know what lurked below just yet.)

The strange chair was the first thing Will had found, it caught his attention immediately! First he'd sat in it, then he circled it, investigating it with just his eyes before crouching around the back and under it. Originally he thought perhaps there was some useful things to scavenge from the chair, then Will was simply curious as to what its function was?

Bucky caught his attention rather abruptly. Turning to face him, standing up and wiping muck and grass from his knees. ]

I've... Already touched it... It was just sitting there, in the open. Strange isn't it?

Chara | Open

[somuchlove]

1) Home Movies

[It seems the Door has decided to spit out something old tech. A set of tapes have made their way into the city, five in total. They are old VHS tapes that are covered in a fine layer of dust that seems almost perminately stuck to them despite anywhere they may been found or whatever happens to touch them. And before certain parties ask, it's normal dust. Not a monster's. The tapes can still be played despite their age -- provided you go old school and have a VHS player.

Tapes number one and two will be found by the owner's partner and number four and five belong to an unfortunate scientist. The third tape's location is still up in the air so anyone can find it. But they may want to watch their backs. The owner of those tapes wants them back whatever the cost.

You have been warned.]


2) Photograph

[The next thing that shows up is a photograph that can be found pretty much anywhere. It's a group shot of one human and a few Monsters, some of them probably recognizable as residents of Hadriel as well and all of them...look happy.

Strangely enough, however, if you turn your back on the photo for long enough it vanishes and reappears elsewhere. Perhaps the "owner" of this photo isn't truly the intended recipient....]

a piece of paper, a photograph, a card of wild design ; tape #3

[enchangement]

[ She'd translated a page or three of the pictograph language, determining that it was all silliness and nothing important. Eventually she'll give them back. To whomever thinks about it hard enough.

The tape cassette, however.

River's never seen one, but she recognizes that it must be used for something, and that someone will want it. So what else to do, besides start looking for one that does.

She throws it up, catches it, spins around, throws it again, in the middle of an otherwise empty seeming road. ]

Noah Czerny | (2 closed, 1 ota!)

[casperdisaster]

Peppermint (Locked to River)

Down by the beach there is a bottle.

It's wedged between two rocks within arm's reach of the shore, label slowly on the way to soaking through for easy peeling off. In spite of the water damage it sill clearly and proudly proclaims itself to be peppermint schnapps (101 Proof). It still has a ribbon around the neck of it too, though it appears whatever tag that was tied as well has been torn off. Possibly by the water.

It's still sealed and everything.



Skateboard (Locked to the Alcohol Demon)

It's a Mark Gonzales skateboard, not that anyone in Hadriel aside from one boy would probably know that. A riot of colors and design, something beautiful, a whole different kind of teenage dream than one of Kavinsky's cars. It rests propped up against the stairs of Rage's temple, and thanks to the design on it, it isn't exactly clear what's wrong with it right away.

Closer inspection, close enough to smell it, shows that it doesn't have the design of a bloodstain on it. It has an actual bloodstain on one of the corners, old and dried enough to flake off with a little work.



General Exploration (open)

Nothing is destroying the city and/or trying to eat them at the moment, so Noah's taking this breath of fresh air to wander, to stretch his legs and reacquaint himself with the streets to make sure no easy access escape plans he had memorized are now a no-go from the most recent monster attack in the form of dragons.

He's happy enough at the beginning of the day, but after the revelation of the skateboard he'll be much more somber.

[Just let me know if you want this pre-skateboard or post-skateboard, I'll match format!]

peppermint;

[enchangement]

[ It doesn't belong in the bar.

And yet it does, the color and the smell when she sniffs along the seam. Schnapps, she remembers as something that Steve liked, that first drink at Castiel's party. A while ago but not that long. Not that time matters, not here.

Not anywhere, really.

She opens the cap and sniffs. Puts it back on, puts the bottle in her bag, and sets out to find a glass.

Can't be sneaking drinks direct from the bottle like someone with terrible manners. ]

Maketh Tua

[mismanagement]

[Stuffed cat - closed to Chris]

[Somehow, somewhere there is a stuffed loth-cat hanging out. It's a child's toy, clearly well loved, and has a jagged smile of fangs. The ears and tail have been torn off and sewn back on several times.]

[Armor - closed to Henry]

[The gods have brought something interesting this time. (Though it could be argued that everything they chose to do is interesting from a certain point of view). But this time they've decided to bring in a large metal trunk, heavily dented and suspiciously scorched. There was a combination lock on it once, with a fingerprint scanner too, but for better or worse, the whole thing has been unceremoniously smashed. The trunk opens without protest.

Inside is a suit of dusty, badly dented Mandalorian battle armor.

Careful of the flame thrower. It still has juice.]

[Guardpost - ota]

[Swing by the guardpost and you'll find Maketh tinkering with a suit of badly dented armor. She has a fire extinguisher close by, just in case.

It's already been used. Her hair is singed. Don't comment on that.]

[Wildcard - ota]

[Hit me!]

Armour; clearly we don't have enough threads! are they roomies yet? assume w/e works for you!

[hotspurred]

[Henry is suspicious when he wakes up and leaves his bedroom only to very nearly break his foot on an unexpected obstacle. For a moment he stares at it, bemused, before curiosity wins out and he circles it, inspecting it. Junk -- except there is something inside. He throws open the lid, and then seats himself on the floor, fascinated by what he glimpses within. It's worth delaying his morning training for. He pulls out the strange armour piece by piece, turning each over in his hand before laying it out neatly next to him.

This is -- was, by the dust -- a woman's armour, but not a style that he recognises and with a large, strange addition on the backplate, the purpose of which mystifies him.

He gets up and fetches a cloth to wipe the armour clean so that he might better inspect the metal. The dents are bad, but fixable. The armour is intact -- there are no holes, splits or cracks -- and otherwise in decent condition.

After he dumps the cloth, Henry fetches his phone and texts Maketh. The hour is still quite early: this way she can read his message at her leisure.]

A wreck of a box waited outside my bedroom door when I woke. You must see the treasure it held within.

Frisk | ota

[save_theworld]

OTA

[By the Spires, muffled rap music plays in the distance.

Which is to say- muffled music plays in the distance, though it's not precisely rap. The closer to it's source you come, the louder it gets, an almost cheerful repetition that cuts through the gloom. The statue it's coming from has no visible signs of anything particularly musical about it, or anything really distinguishable at all. It's old. The umbrella propped into the crook of one arm is old.

And the music it plays is also...old.

At varying parts of the day, Frisk can also be found near this Most Mysterious of Objects, standing before it, seated against it's side...even napping, if the inclination takes them. No matter what they do, the music marches on. And on. And on.

Care to join them, stranger?]


Closed to Sans and Chara

[The second item belonging to one mx. Frisky Business is found not on the street, but beside their bed. They almost step on it when they begin the morning, in fact, retracting their feet back up onto the bed and staring down at it with muted shock.

It's just-

It's just the pie, though. Because they've checked their contacts list, and they've called the number they know off by heart and nobody c-

...It's just a slice of pie.

Once they've collected themself, they know vaguely what they want to do with it, too. There's a twist of longing when they hod the plate in their hands, and when they take it into the kitchen, carefully slicing the big piece into two, smaller pieces, it's very tempting to give into that longing. Just a bite. Just a little square, maybe, a little piece for them.

....

One slice is transferred to a new plate. They glad wrap both, before setting out.

They have two people to find, after all. And unlike the first, the first--

These two are in their contact list.]

[skelebro]

[He, uh. Well, he's not sure he should be surprised or just wary that the kid thought to contact him. There's been all sorts of weird things ending up in their proverbial laps for seemingly no reason, and almost all of them have been - well, "upsetting" or "emotional distressing" or "psychological traumatizing" would be putting it real damn lightly.

So he's got photographic proof of the kid's...heroism? Pacifism? He don't even know what to call it anymore. If he should call it anything at all. That's assuming they're even the same kid he knows and - and god but why'd this all have to get so damned complicated? Why'd he have to start - start acting like any of it meant anything at all?

Did they, though? Did they mean anything to them?

Or were they all just...toys on a playing board? Monopoly pieces?

He doesn't even wanna ask. So he won't. He knocks on their door and shoves his hands in his pockets and waits with a heaviness in the part of himself that's best described as his gut.]

Castiel | Supernatural

[strangelic]

October 15th - Dean's amulet - Clinic! Open!

[ Castiel was very happy with people today. They were excited, emotional. Okay, so some of them were stressed over things as well but that was really a typical day around here. When he'd found out what it was all about, Castiel started looking for things, excited, buzzing cheerfully as he wandered around from one place to another, hunting out things. Sooner or later, he was bound to find something, at which point he could return it to its delighted owner.

But right now, Cas was about to come upon something very personal, instead. He worked around the room, moving between cupboards, rifling through drawers, peering into their black depths.

Then there it was, a pendant necklace curled up in the bottle of a drawer full of medical bits and pieces. Cas' fingers curled around it, and he just about sank to the floor in a heap, his hands twisted around it, cradling it close. It was Dean's amulet, and even if had proven to be useful--now? Now it was important that it was Dean's. That seemed... It just seemed to be such a necessary thing that it had belonged to him at all. And now he held it in his hand...

The angel smiled at it, and glanced up at the person moving past him. ]

Isn't it wonderful?


October 19th - Angel tablet - First come first served

[ What is that thing sitting on the floor, just in the corner of your line of sight? Weird, it looks like a flat stone thing, and yet when you get closer, there's obviously words there, or scratchings, or something. It's not in a language that you could possibly understand, even if you're good at them. The word of God is like that.

Go ahead, pick it up. Someone in the city can feel it, and they're on their way. But be careful. Castiel has to protect the tablet, which means Finders Keepers is out the window. ]


Open - but the items are going to their owners, obviously~

Bianca's table and open

[ Hidden under a tree near the river, was a table. It was like nothing that he'd ever seen before. And, quite honestly, it was something that he'd rather he'd never seen at all. Still, it belonged to someone, and so Castiel crept in toward it, trepidation rising in his chest. It was faces, baby faces, all of them moving, twisting, provoking, and yet the very worst thing about it was the fact that some part of it felt human.

So don't be surprised at all that as Cas crept closer to the thing, brow furrowed in concern, he started to try to talk to it. ]

Are you... Hello? Can you understand me? Can you hear me?

River's cryo box and open

[ It was a very big box, sitting alone in the corner of the Collosseum. A big, weird, metal box, with lights and things on it. Cas wasn't entirely sure what to make of it, and yet he ran his hands thoughtfully over the top, moved around it, trying to get a feel for what it was, or what it contained.

It had to belong to someone, right? But what would someone want with a strange box? Although come to think of it, the same could be said for some of the other things that he'd found. Maybe there was something inside it, then...

He tried to find out how to open it, and when he located the catch, he lifted hard, sprung his hands upward to reveal it's contents-- ]

Tina's Bunkers & Badasses game and open

[ Now this was more like it. Castiel had been trying to find more games for the longest time, and he'd been disappointed more often than he could count with the contents of the shops. He'd tried making his own, of course, but what he really wanted to find were some board games, or a real version of Twister. Surely if anything that he cared for was going to fall through the door, it would be that--or maybe he would stumble upon a hive of bees. He wanted to find them, if they were there. They'd need to be oriented to this lovely new place, after all, and he'd need to show them where all the flowers were...

But the game, when he found it--it looked like a lot of fun, with its cute little humanoid characters. Castiel gathered up everything and took it out into the sunshine, sitting in the street outside the thoroughfare of shops with bright eyes, trying to work the rules out just by looking at it. It was probably fun, or it would be once he worked out how to play. Help an angel? ]


Closed to Jo Harvelle

[ Castiel knew at once who the knife belonged to, when he found it. Or rather, who the blade had once belonged to. Now it sat in the grass, lay half hidden there where only the sharpest and most curious eyes would find it. So when he saw it there, Cas picked it up, sank back on his haunches and turned the blade over thoughtfully. He hummed, thinking about its owner, and a moment later, his wings fluttered, and he was, instead, sitting not very far from Jo with the knife in his hands.

He stood, still without taking his fingers off the blade, the memories and intensity imbued in an object so simple that it could be Heavenly for all it represented. And yet it was Jo's blade; Jo's by right, just as Dean had inherited his father's car.

He smiled at her, but there was a touch of sadness there too. ]

I have something of yours.

[knifecollecting]

[Jo had gotten used to Castiel appearing suddenly. Today she was curled up in one of the living room chairs, and when he appears on the couch she twists to face him, curious.]

Hm? Something of mine?

Camille | OC | OTA

[notjelly]

Cake Decorating Box - Open

Down near Sorrow's temple, of all places, is an innocuous but brightly colored box. It looks like it was hand-painted, and the outside is a little banged up, clearly well-loved. Inside are several tiers, kind of like a toolbox or a tackle box; on the first tier is a bunch of different metal tips for frosting bags, as well as about twelve different colors of food dye. In the bottom are pastry bags, fasteners, a small box of plain white fondant, a tiny rolling pin, and two metal spatulas with the letter C and a tiny flower engraved into the handles.

A gift, apparently. One that's probably sorely-missed.

Framed Photograph - Open

It's a plain, black wooden frame, the sort you'd put on a desk. It's sitting on a random counter in a random store, fairly easy to miss. The photo features three people. In the center is Camille, recognizable because of her favorite red-haired human form, though she's sporting cat whiskers, freaky goat eyes and bear claws. Her arms are draped over a person on either side, and it's pretty clearly that both of them are the same species as Camille. On the right is someone who also appears to be mostly human, shorter than Camille and with black cat ears, short deer antlers, and a feather pattern in their skin. On the left is someone who looks more like an anthropomorphic crocodile, bright green with neon pink and blue markings, grinning and waving at the camera with a cat-like paw.

All three of them look happy, and Camille herself seems a bit younger.

cake decorating box!!!

[sciencelizard]

[Alphys knows very little about what's going on, all things considered, but she's not one to pass up free material when she sees it, so she's been wandering around, finding and scavenging anything that looks even remotely useful, when the box catches her eye. It sticks out from the otherwise drab surroundings, and she can't help but peek inside, turning over every item in her hands gently. She's never seen anything like this, though she does recognize the spatula, and assumes these must be for cooking of some kind.

She closes it, looking around to see if there's anyone nearby who might've dropped the thing, before opening it again, picking over the contents. She remembers someone telling her she was a baker, the snake-person who wasn't quite, what was her name... oh! Wait! Camille! That was a C! Alphys looks up, excited for a moment, before realizing... she has no earthly idea how to contact her.

So instead, Alphys closes the box again, picks it up, and begins trekking about, trying to see if she can spot Camille, or find someone who might know where to direct her to see if it's hers. And if it's not, well... maybe she'll like it, anyway!]

alphys | ota + one closed

[sciencelizard]

open: [sees thing] take

[Listen. Listen. For Alphys, old habits die hard. When you grow up underground, and your only source of fresh materials for every engineering project you want to build is shit that can either be excavated from a cave (expensive, dangerous) or taken from a pile of garbage (absolutely free), well, your weekend hobby becomes shifting through trash. And with so many new items, there's a LOT of new stuff.

So, y'know, if you haven't found your thing yet, or even if you're just looking, she's just... gonna be stockpiling things that don't seem to belong to people. Or even if they might. Y'know. Take.]

closed: a particular oddity

[Hidden somewhere within Hadriel lies a few sheets of large paper, rolled up and secured with a rubber band. Inside, or if one were to roll them open, are complex blueprints and planning notes for a particular robot body, along with a variety of smaller, box-shaped robots with umbrellas and bombs. This might be hard to discern who it belongs to, considering there's no one who looks anything like this within the city, but...

Shouldn't be too hard for one determined kid, ya?]

/swandives into hell- take 2

[save_theworld]

[Shouldn't be too hard at all, seeing as they not only recognize the robot- they recognize the blueprints, as well. They're very familiar with Alphys' room.

Which is to say, they like the escalators. In among the myriad of times Frisk had gone in circles round the lab, just for the sake of it, details had cropped up, memorized and never forgotten. History books that didn't strike them as very accurate, an odd machine that produced cold, pink goop. A table, sometimes only plastered with charts and papers, sometimes occupied by-- someone else.

They don't actually know what to do with these.

They don't actually want to be the one to give them back.

But they found them, so they should. They really should, blueprints rolled up and clutched in one hand as they navigate their phone with the other, and it's been- a few months of very new things, hasn't it?]

Hi Alphys. I think I found something that belongs to you. Do you want me to come over?

Bianca | Carlisle and anyone else

[wormintheglass]

Bianca, who is never slow off the mark when it comes to scavenging opportunities, has been ranging the city with Bud and Lou, using their noses to track down anything that smells new.

They almost had a disagreement about the enormous, heavy fur. Bianca feels it would make a perfect hearthrug - its claws and its oddly appealing monster face strike the right uncanny valley note she's been aiming for with her Hadriel interior decorating.

Bud and Lou, on the other hand, feel strongly that it was intended for a hyena tug toy, and it's necessary for Bianca to discourage them with more than usual firmness.

And then she sees the nametag. She knows who Carlisle is, but they haven't really spoken. She probably doesn't know him well enough, she thinks, that she should feel obliged to return his property. On the other hand, Kate is close with him, and Kate is in her house often enough. Plausible deniability would be sticky, if Kate happened to see it.

She is caught in indecision, and so she starts the slow walk home, the hideous fur draped around her shoulders like a stole. Carlisle only lives next door; she has until she reaches the first spiral to make a decision.

[tongueamok]

With his entire body still in a world of pain after the previous month's events, Carlisle doesn't leave the house he shares with Kate and Faith (and unknowingly, Crow) very often. Bianca is lucky to cross his path as he emerges from his shared home, his stance stiff as he closes the door behind him.

Well, nearly closes the door. He gets outside it and is just about to pull it to when he sees Bud and Lou heading his way. Carlisle is passingly familiar with the two creatures: he has seen them in the company of their mistress on occasion, though only through the window and generally from a safe distance, like from his old apartment or his rooftop garden. He's only seen hyenas in illustrated format, so he assumes they are either those, or the world's most hideous dogs. Either way, to see them so close, and coming his direction, is legitimately terrifying.

So back into his house he goes, getting inside and slamming the door just as Bianca comes within eyeshot.

beth washington ( open )

[edibles]

( Just when the place starts seeming less strange, or you're at least used to the fact that you're there, does something else happen. First dragons and then familiar things.

A music box, specifically. Hannah's music box. She knows it well enough by sight but after getting to it, rushing over to open it before anyone else finds it, does Beth truly know it's Hannah's.

She holds it in her hands for a little while, letting the tune play as she stands in the street. It had just been sat there, half hidden under a sack when it had caught her eye. Why was it here? How was it here?

After a few minutes of just listening to it, almost caught in a daydream by the song, does Beth close it up. She needs to show Hannah, to ask her if she knew it was there, or if it was somehow just there )

[casperdisaster]

[With the way Beth runs for the music box, Noah's figuring either it's hers or belongs to someone she knows.

Still, pretty girl, Noah can't resist at least saying hello, you know?]

... Pretty song.

Tiny Tina | Ota | Will match format!

[burn_all_the_babies]

[ Jill's STARS photograph! ]

[ Living in the abandoned store she'd found, had its advantages. The shelves and stock room still had plenty of edible food in them, plus there was random bits and pieces of metal and old devices that Tina could tinker with, pull apart and make new things with! It was great fun!

Today however, as she was climbing the top shelves, tackling cobwebs and looking for more stuff to burn on her little hobo fire, Tina came across a photograph. At first, she thought nothing of it, just a bunch of buff dudes hanging out with a chopper in the background, then she noticed there was a woman in the picture, knelt down in the front. ]

Goldilocks!?

[ Holding it close to her face, squinting before smirking wide. It was definitely Jill Valentine! And that made Tina so happy! Jill was one of the women on Tina's List of total badasses so to have her very own picture of her was like getting an early Christmas present!

Squeeing, wiggling around on the shelf, before hopping back down, the photograph pushed to her chest as she hugged it. ]

Imma get dis mofo signed!! Where's she at!?

[ Sprinting out of the store and running into the street, Tina was on a mission, she wouldn't stop searching the streets until she found Jill! ]

SHAWTY!? HEY YO SHAWTY WHERE YOOs AT GURL!?



[ Lea's Frisbees! ]

[ Man had it been a good day for loot! On her way back home from the housing area of the City, Tina had stumbled upon these pretty sweet looking Frisbees! They were no where near as cool as the frisbee-shield that Athena used, but there were still really badass.

Instead of going straight home, Tina stopped off in one of the streets, pulled a ribbon from her hair and picked up a large rock. ]

Deez is gonna make one helluva pauldron set yo!

[ Attempting to strap them in place at the top of her shoulders, using the rock to bash at them with hopes of bending them into shape. She didn't know that they belonged to anyone! And if they did, why were they just laying about in the street for?! ]


[ OTA Scavenging for goodies! ]

[ After having found some cool stuff hanging around the City, Tina was now on the look out for other awesome shit! So, don't be alarmed, or, do actually, if Tina comes creeping into you apartment like some naughty little squirrel with hopes of stealing up your goodies! ]

[survivethis]

[Goldilocks now, but in that picture, Jill was clearly a brunette once before. She actually misses her natural hair color. Since the experimentation, her hair changed and hasn't reverted back. She wonders if it ever will. Just another thing Wesker had the nerve to take from her.

While Jill is on patrol, she hears the shouting of the familiar voice and waits when she sees Tina come running up the street. Good thing the dragons are gone or the kid would be an obvious target.]

closed to hannah washington - 10/17

[unfollowing]

[Emily found some cute buttons at one of the shops today, and since Hannah is really good at sewing on buttons (not as much with other elements of sewing, but this is something, and if anyone makes fun of Hannah for it, they'll have to face Emily), she brings them up to Hannah and Beth's room.

The bedroom door is open, so Emily calls out a greeting before stepping inside, shaking the mug where she put the buttons. (It's not the prettiest mug ever, but it was right there in the shop, and it was clean, so why not.)]

Han, I found these--

[The purpose of her visit is forgotten the moment she spots it. It's big, with multiple layers to it, purple and pretty and pink, with accents in other colors, and flowers to give it more life.]

That's-- That's my kimono.

[What the hell is it doing here?]

[wendigoner]

It is? [ Hannah had looked up when Emily entered, but she brightens at the announcement. She moves to the garment and gingerly lowers it from where it'd been carefully hung, offering it to Emily. ]

I found it. Outside. [ She explains quickly. ] You know, like the other things that're appearing lately.

[ She offers a tentative smile. ]

I wasn't sure whose it was, but... it was so pretty, I couldn't just leave it lying there.

Cole | Closed - Flick and Pellaz | Streets

[fadeling]

At least they were trying--or at least they said they were trying. Cole really couldn't tell about the "gods" with names more like demons. They were and they weren't, more complicated like people instead of simple like spirits. Disorienting only barely began to cover it, but maybe that was why they did it. At least the things they'd brought were smaller this time.

He didn't know whose the knife was when he found it lying in the street--he just knew that it hurt and he knew not to touch. Nothing here was ever just that simple. It was never "just" a knife. He tried not to listen anymore. It hurt too much, and people didn't want him to listen, either.

It felt more familiar when he crouched next to it, though, and eventually he got brave enough to pick it up. Maybe he shouldn't have, but someone would need help with it.

"Is it sharp or sharpened? How do you tell?" It's doubtful he's speaking literally--not with the faraway tone in his voice. Still, he stares at the knife for a few moments, turning it over and over, looking for through than at it, and not bothering to stand up or move from the middle of the street.

"Stolen in sibilant singing, cut in the calling of chords. Can it be remembered?"

Re: Cole | Closed - Flick and Pellaz | Streets

[saltrock_imp]

Flick was drawn to the knife even now, like he had been that night. It was almost easy to see the strings of manipulation moving him, the parts of him that had begun to chafe and blister under the strain and struggle. He ended up walking the streets, the same way he had woken that night and wandered until he found his way to that place that had been calling him all along. He had started this. Unintentionally yes, he had been used, but like so many other times in his life Flick had allowed it. Enjoyed it even. And now, he hated where fate brought him. One of many culminations.

Flick's vision blurred, seeing Cole's visage overlayed with Cal. Knife over knife. Maybe this time he'd really be dreaming.

"No, not here." Flick murmured, fighting. He didn't want to see what had been dredged out, what Cole had found. "....I threw it in the soda lake."

The har was leaking pain and memories, times he didn't want to relive that he thought he had buried forever. Not forgotten, just ignored. Festering.

Will Graham | OTA + 2 closed

[feelslikeimspilling]

[ Closed to Miriam ]

The last few days had been terrible. Will didn't know if he was coming or going. Despite having found himself somewhere to stay, to call home for the time being, he wasn't settling in well at all. Will was very sick, he needed urgent medical attention, though not long before he arrived here, he'd been given the all clear by a crooked Doctor who was under Hannibal's control. So needless to say, Will was feeling confused. Feeling ill and yet being told it was all in your head? Yeah, it had messed him up a little. So, Will decided to self medicate, heading over to the bar he'd spotted while wondering around the City.

He wasn't even sure what to expect when he entered. Standing in the doorway for a long moment. Patting Winston on top of his head as he told him to wait for him outside. The golden dog simply tilted his head aside and gave a bark, tail slowing in it's wag before he lay down on the floor. Will pushed to door open and entered.

He only gained a few looks from the people inside there, no one seemed to bother him, which was nice all things considering. Making his way over to the bar, taking a seat as the waitress came over to take his order. "Bourbon, please." He humbly asked, leaning his elbows on the bar counter top as he waited. Once he'd been given his drink, Will too a second to glance around the room.

It was then that a young girl sat by herself, fussing over something large caught his attention. He frowned as he watched, curious as to what she was doing and why she was doing it in a bar for? Will's curiosity got the better of him and so he slides over from one bar stool to the next, it was then that he noticed what exactly she was tampering with.

"I have one just like that..."


[ Closed to Ichigo ]

Walking through the City, from the shops back to his apartment in the Spires, Will had come across something of interest after he'd collected some caned goods from an abandoned store. It was a book, one covered with graffiti on its cover and filled with little notes in on its pages. Possibly a school text book? Whatever it was originally it had been well used.

Will smiled. He was using his shirt as a means to carry his 'shopping' in one hand and decided to thumb through the book with his other. Reading, muttered just below his voice as he passed a few people going the other direction.

"To mourn a mischief that is past and gone is the next way to draw new mischief on." Will liked Othello and recognised that the book was indeed the works of William Shakespear. Heh, how interesting, that a book such as this was just laying around. Ones mans trash was another mans treasure after all.

[ Open! Fishing at the lake ]

There was too much going on and the City was far too busy for Will at the moment. Dragons had come and been slain by the residents that dwell here, and now random objects and belongings were showing up from different peoples worlds. Will just wanted to rest, he just wanted to go somewhere where there were no other people.

The lake seemed like the perfect place to go. Will was unaware of any monsters or creatures that lurked below the surface, he didn't know about the dangers Hadriel housed or where the worst places to go were. He was just looking for something that reminded him of home, a place where he could go and just forget everything that was going on around him.

So it was on the banks of the lake that you'd find Will. Sat in a tuft of grass, using a sharpened stone to sharpen a length of wood. A home made rod was better than non after all.

[dogsanddaughters]

[Barnaby goes to greet the newcomer first. He lumbered to his feet with a groan, ruff all the way up and tail raised in warning, and barked just once. Don't come too close.

Miriam glances up from her tinkering. She found the eingine stuck between a rock on the street and lugged it back to the bar for closer examination. It seems to be working, or on the verge of working if she fusses with it. But she can't figure out what it's for.] Yeah? You know what it's for or something?

[Barnaby huffs.]

Say hi to my man. That's Barnaby. He doesn't bite. Unless you're mean. But you wouldn't be mean to me, now would you?

Dr. Hermann Gottlieb | mostly lab | ota and closed | will match format

[verinumeri]

[ 1 - Lab work, lab week, time is a circle, math is forever ]

[ Unless you catch him as he walks to or from the lab, Hermann is best found there throughout the week.

(And if you find him in the 'morning' or 'evening', he may be stooped upon finding a not yet claimed item, especially if it is after the first day as more reports trickle in, as it becomes clear or clearer what may be happening. Of course, unless Newton refused to get up and Hermann refused to wait, they likely walk together, so double trouble may be requested.

[At the lab too, for that matter.])

After the sixteenth, he may be focused on the ultimately futile attempt to craft an adapter for Hadriel's power supply and the computer that bears the Kaiju Science, PPDC labeling. After the eighteenth, he is likely not looking at a PPDC labeled binder, though does sit on a shelf. (Before then, you might have something that was once his. Prepared by him, anyway.) He may be examining scales through Newton's makeshift microscope, may be tinkering with a microwave in pieces, may be squinting at code on his phone or the iPad, or may be standing at the black wall, a stick of chalk in his hands (and smeared overall with it, dusting his hair, spotting his clothes), the wall covered in equations.

Stop on by. ]

[ 2 - Engineering Exchange - Closed to Dr. Alphys ]

[ On the morning of the sixteenth, Hermann finds a laptop behind the toilet.

It's a strange place for the machine for more than one reason. Without any distinguishing marks, and with the rest of the house equally clueless, he waits until he's eaten and reached the lab to start it up. There isn't much battery, but enough to discover the owner (or at least the name on the documents, the system information), and to have seen an impressive amount of hard drive space dedicated to animated cartoons.

The documents looked much more interesting, but he wouldn't waste the power on violating Dr. Alphys's privacy.

Instead, he turns it off and texts her. It's simple enough:]

Good morning, Dr. Alphys.

I believe I've found something of yours.

[ Attached: dra_laptop.jpg ]

[ 3 - INAPPROPRIATE. - Closed to Kate, then Newton ]

[ On the seventeenth, the box of oatmeal is much heavier than dry oatmeal generally is.

Earlier to the lab, he'd intended breakfast there. When he pours it into a bowl, something else (NSFW!!!!) comes with the oats.

It knocks over the bowl.

He simultaneously knocks over his chair, so there's a mutual clatter, and something too close to an undignified squawk of surprise. After a second's recovery, he inspects the thing, able to deduce what it is, if not whose. Because after two days of this, he has an idea that it must be, because Mr. Deadpool is a pervert, but he wouldn't leave a vibrator in the oatmeal.

He bloody hopes not, anyway.

Unfortunately, and possibly to Newton's ire were he to know, Hermann does think of Miss Carr immediately.

Not that he assumes it is hers. He only thinks she's the sort of person who might not mind trying to find to whom it actually belongs, whereas Hermann refuses to do that. (There ought to be a list. Someone out to make a post, he thinks, inviting a list. They would need to rely on one another's honesty, that being the problem.) He doesn't want it. He doesn't want to think about it.

Hermann throws out the box, the oatmeal, resents the waste of food, and stares accusingly at the pink monstrosity. Where in the hell is he supposed to put it? ]

GUESS WHICH

[dedikated]

( she has no intention of finding Faith's vibrator, like, really. no. they're friends enough that she knows this shit (because Faith has no filter whatsoever, and really, Kate has little in the way of one either) but she isn't exactly going from pillar to post hoping that she can find something her friend can have an orgasm with.

they're not that close.

(is anyone?)

no, when she comes in, it's because she's found something very different, and she knows that voice well enough from network posts and occasional lab visits, knows that there is definitely someone called Hermann about.

she knocks before entering. )

You guys in?

clinic - closed to cho hakkai - 10/16

[avephoenix]

[Never in her life did she think she'd be able to understand Chinese.

Somehow, Faith knows it's that, but she still understands the writing in the journal that turns up on her desk at the house. (She sees the characters on the page and reads them as if they were English, so it's not as if whatever's going on here makes her suddenly fluent. It's handy that way, because this isn't hers, and she wants to return it to its owner.) When she flips it open, she sees a name on the inside cover, recognizes it from the clinic roster, and knows exactly when she'll be giving this back.

She heads for the clinic for that express purpose after double checking with Kate that Hakkai is on shift.]

Hiya! Hakkai? Got something of yours here!

[stepford_smiler]

[Hakkai looks up from wiping down one of the surfaces of the clinic, ever the neat freak.

He had never met this girl before. He wonders if someone sent her there for them.]

That's me.

What is it?

[He wipes his hands off on a dry cloth before approaching her.]

hope's temple / closed to faith / 10.15 ( before kate revives )

[hollowly]

( the number of times he's gone back and forth between the temple and kate's new place – he's lost count by now, or would like to think he has, because it would mean that he hasn't been obsessively pacing as much as he actually has. that he's been a productive member of the murdercave instead of holding his breath every time he nears the temple itself, that his heart hasn't sat stuck in the back of his throat, and that he's gotten at least a few moments' rest in the last few days.

but it doesn't mean that, does it? because that would be too easy, and too much like something that could actually make sense in the larger scheme of things.

( it could never be that simple. )

he isn't … expecting to find anything on his most recent trek, but a flash of something out of place catches his attention at the edge of his periphery. it strikes him as odd, that a picture frame is simply lying about out in the open –

and even more odd that he recognizes two of the faces smiling back at him immediately.

there's the smallest moment of study before he picks his steps back up again, fingertips running along the edges of the frame like it's something of his own that had shown up in its place, and he thinks to himself that he'll stop by either the clinic or the house to give it back to its rightful owner.

except it would seem that he isn't going to have to do either of those things.

faith is lingering just outside the temple itself, and he catches himself hesitating for the span of his next breath, drawn in and held in the back of his throat to join the erratic thump-thump-thump that beats insistently.

no turning back now. ) … Hey.

[avephoenix]

[This is it. This will be the day Kate comes back. It's got to be, because it's been almost a week, and Hope said it takes a few days for him to get people back on their feet.

So why is it so hard to walk into the temple today? Well... because she knows what getting stuck mourning will do to a person. She's seen it happen, seen people wither away in their grief. That's not Faith's way -- it's never been, because she needs to be around, needs to move and do and laugh -- but sometimes, she thinks about it. What if she changed? What if this is the thing that breaks her? What if--

She looks up when a voice calls to her, immediately recognizing Sam. (Kate's... friend. Kate's more than friend.) Any other day, she'd throw a teasing remark at him about the whole thing, but she can't find the strength to. She's not there yet. She's too busy hanging on to Hope's assertion that Kate will come back soon.]

Hiya. [She tries for a smile; it comes out small and shaky.] Here to wait for her too?

rey.

[circumitus]

I. 15th-19th: Anywhere (OPEN)

For once, things seem pretty calm.

After being here for so long, it's difficult not to notice a certain pattern in which events seem to present themselves. The gods are about as predictable as anything.

As for Rey... One may pass by her on the river or tending to the dam. The bar isn't an unlikely place to find her, either.

Other times she is wandering. Supposedly on patrol, but that's her usual excuse when she can't sleep and can't stick to one place at any great length.

At some point, she has curiously stumbled upon some messages that have to belong to someone in the city. The name regarding the complaint notice does sound familiar, but tracking down its owner is going to be another story.

Perhaps she should think of a way to return them.

II. 16th: Workshop (OPEN)

Sometimes she is at work in an abandoned housing unit on the unrestored edge of the city, which houses a supply of chemicals and the rest of her weapons cache that she's been collecting.

She has since relocated her supplies since introducing Sato to the last place, and not many are aware of it. But those that can hear the tinkering within the unit while happening by may notice a lingering light or a shift within what would otherwise be an uninhabitable home.

Furthermore, on her work desk sits a particular dashboard hula doll. She doesn't know why she took it, other than the charming novelty of the damned thing.

It's interesting what she's been finding riddling the city these days.

II. 19th: The Tunnels (CLOSED TO SATO)

It isn't like Rey is here for ammunition. With Lilith gone, so ends that deal they had made in exchange for the sniper rifle Rey is now holding. Unless she were to return, that is.

Between that, the 92FS with a reliable supply of ammo, and the one kukri, she at least comes into these tunnels prepared. This isn't her first gig, and for once she isn't here to track down something to kill.

Instead, she's drawn to this place by the familiar. After all, she can't think of any weapons anyone has here that can burn holes through solid walls, or riddle one of the creatures she's seen with such clean precision.

No. She's seen those marks before. She just has to confirm what she already suspects, regardless of whatever she finds (or what finds her) here.

[ooc: If anyone wants to find anything of Rey's, there are still a couple things up for grabs! Or vice versa and you want her to find something of your dudes'.]

Tunnel Adventures

[infinite1up]

Whenever Sato hear another set of footsteps echoing nearby, he always gravitates towards them. If it's another person, that's fine. If it's a monster... well, that's even better, isn't it?

Isn't it?

The new gun that he found is a futuristic little bit of tech, and it's fun enough to shoot, but it feels like the excitement of monsters is finally starting to wear off a little bit. They're a challenge, sure, but so mindless.

So when he rounds a corner, maser trained on whoever the other set of footsteps belong to... it's a bit of a surprise to see such a familiar face.

"Oh! It's a small world after all," he says. There's about a half second there of pause but... no, he does decide after that split second to lower the gun.

Pell. (closed)

[pellameno]

A. For Chris

Pell was making his way to his garden when he finds a book in his path -- not a library book, he's fairly certain, as he spends plenty of time there... he could pst looking for the owner but curiosity killed the har. He lifts it carefully from the ground and opens it, to frightful page after page of illustrations. And then the subject matter catches his attention more than the visuals. Wendigo. How to trap, kill, contain. He knows just which group this might pertain to but he wouldn't bring it to emily so... Chris it is. Where are you, Chris? Home? Delight's bar? The clinic maybe? Pell makes the rounds with the book tucked in his cloak, searching for his friend.

B. For Glacius

He's just gotten the book dealt with and is heading back to his original mission when he spots a strangely shaped set of items in the dirt along the riverside. He picks those up, examines them, and determines them to be some kind of armor. Too alien to fit the humanoids here, but he doesn't know where Glacius lives. So he sends a text:

Glacius, It's Pell. I've found something I believe is yours. Meet me?

C. For Emily

After tending to his garden (finally) and having found the bag of seeds that much only have been intended for him, he lays out a few rows in relative calm before going to check on Emily at her sewing shop. Hopefully she hasn't found anything as upsetting as some today.

A!

[thechoiceisyours]

Chris is at the bar at the moment, both because the coffee cart needs attending and because he really needs some time out of the house. There are way, way too many people--and wolves--in it for him to put up with constantly.

So instead he's sitting at the bar, drinking a cup of coffee and idly poking at his phone, and he looks up when Pell enters.

"Hey, Pell. What's up?"

uryuu ishida | closed to ichigo kurosaki | the lonely and their prey (truth will mess you up)

[repelling]

[ After speaking to Czerny-kun the day before, Uryuu understood the severed hand, the tambourine. He continues to wonder that the items do all seem to belong to people here, and -- tries not to hope or want something, himself. It's a pretty big cave with not many people. He's thinking, maybe someone should make rounds and put a list together, start a collection.

Maybe he just needs something to do. Some of the items may be horrifying, but notwithstanding his initial reaction to that hand, it's not as though Uryuu hasn't got plenty of experience with horrible things. He can stomach it. There might even be things turning up in the tunnels, and not everyone can fight, right?

So once Uryuu finishes breakfast, he leaves his apartment, descends eight flights, and heads for the nearest opening into the tunnels.

He doesn't get three feet before his hunch pans out, before he wishes it hadn't. The sort of thing that maybe wouldn't stand out in monster-infested tunnels, except that there's no body, no skeleton. A set of clothing laid out neatly: a sweater, a dark shirt, a long skirt. Women's clothes and cute, well-tailored. Uryuu would more admire that, if not for all the blood.

If not for the lingering weight of a Hollow, nasty, vile, oppressive -- but there are not Hollows here. Swiftly, he concentrates the ribbons of reiraku, as though it could be suppressing its reiatsu, in disguise, confirming it.

No Hollows.

Women's clothing, covered in blood, they must have been sopping once, so much blood, but now dried, but the Hollow's hunger only lingers.

It's a bad joke, he thinks, letting him find this. It doesn't mean anything to him. If the patterns hold, they would belong to Kuchiki-san or Kurosaki. Hard for his mind not to go to one place. Gathering himself, he kneels, carefully folding the skirt, the sweater with the shirt, and drapes them over his arm. Turning, Uryuu slips out of the tunnels, wondering how in the hell he's going to broach this with either of them. ]

is this the opposite of actiontagging on the network comm

[liketeenspirit]

[That picture definitely hadn't been on the windowsill last night. Ichigo might not be the most observant person in the murder cave, but even with the purple plant and the shutter shades he's never going to be caught dead in taking up space, he knows he's never seen this photograph before.

People have been finding stuff from home all over the cave, Ichigo knows -- he keeps an eye on the network, even if he doesn't post all that often. This has to be one of those things. No one would climb up to the second story to leave a framed photo behind, right?

He doesn't know the woman in the picture, but her face...is it just coincidence? Or could it be...

There's only one way to find out. Ichigo pulls out his phone and sends a voice message.]

Hey, Ishida. I've got something I need you to take a look at. Where are you?

mello | closed to casa wammy's

[torrefied]

one. for L.

The first day, Mello steps out onto the deck of the house he's sharing with L and Near and finds a plain bottle of black nail polish sitting on the railing. This ... seems a little suspicious, but maybe that's just because Mello has been bred for a certain level of paranoia and distrust. This isn't the first time objects have suddenly appeared at their house without fanfare, but upon inspection, it seems like nothing more than a perfectly ordinary bottle of nail polish.

Mello pockets the bottle and takes it inside to his room, then sets it up on the windowsill next to the Hope's hula girl and stares at it for about fifteen minutes. Satisfied that it isn't somehow strange, he takes the bottle down from the shelf, gives it a good shake as he moves to a sprawl on the bed, unscrews the cap, and begins carefully applying a coat of polish to his thumbnail.

two. L and near.

Well, this is fairly disgusting. This time, when Mello steps out onto the deck, the thing sitting up on the railing is a paper bag full of something, and the label is too water-damaged to make out anything except a single letter - L. Mello is pretty sure he doesn't want to inspect the contents, but he does so anyway, face scrunched up with disgust when he sees that what is inside is food, or it used to be, before it was overtaken by mold.

The big question, of course, is what to do with it next. He could ignore it, leave it out here, but it's not in his nature to leave things for someone else to take care of. He delicately picks up the topmost edge of the paper bag, holds it a respectable distance in front of himself, and marches back into the house, making a beeline for the kitchen trash can.

one

[hearthebell]

[The downside of living with two people who are less socially aware, in very different ways, is that it can be difficult to predict which boundaries will be tripped over and when. When it comes to comes to closed doors, for example, L isn't always the best at knocking. Though he maintains his own boundaries jealously, he seems blithely unaware of others'; it's not malicious, and almost passes for innocent, but the point is, he's terrible at it.

He wants to address something he found that has Mello's name on it, a copy of Machiavelli's The Prince that his foot brushed against on his way back to the house. He carries it delicately but more firmly than he typically handles things, implying that he actually cares about whether or not he damages it. He turns the knob and enters, stopping short when he sees what his successor's doing.]

The fumes from nail polish can be intoxicating if you inhale them and you don't have access to proper ventilation, you know... are you feeling light-headed?

Miriam Day - OTA

[dogsanddaughters]

[phone]

Somehow, somewhere, a phone is ringing. It's not the one that the gods provided whenever they dropped you in Hadriel, though it looks fairly similiar. This one is a dark, emerald green, and slightly dented. Someone has painted a fairly accurate picture of a dog's paw-print on the back with magic marker.

It keeps ringing. Strange, considering there's no reception and it doesn't connect to the network.

But if you happened to take a closer look, you'll find a collection of photos and video. Some of them feature strangers.

Miriam is in most of them, laughing with Barnaby and a man with green hair. There's also a young woman with them, a soldier in a black uniform with a lieutenant's silver bars on her breast. Miriam's mother looks young enough to be her sister.

Miriam would very much like this back if you find it.]

[Helmet]

[You know what would make your day better? Finding a combat helmet sitting outside your door. It's got a rather distinctive symbol printed on it - a grinning skull with blue flowers stuck in the eye sockets.

And because Hadriel loves you and wants you to be happy, the helmet camera is still operational. Want to see what it's user has been doing for the last eight hours or so? Feel free to take a look.

Hint: it's murder.

It's not very pretty.

Remember how that weird kid with the dog keeps talking about the people who burned her home down?

Yeah. You get to watch her friends get murdered.

If it's any consolation, the blood and brain matter stuck on the inside of the helmet says that its owner probably didn't survive the attack. Maybe there's some justice in the universe.]

[Wildcard]

[Hit me.]

abdul | ota

[seventyeight]

i || love that might prosper

[It's coincidence, probably, that Abdul goes to check out the orchard on this particular day. He's meant to for a bit now, but he's only just gotten to it. It's refreshing, actually. Not like home, but refreshing all the same, like stepping into a greenhouse; he's hit with the quiet that comes from green all around, and it makes him smile faintly without entirely noticing it.]

[He spends a few minutes exploring the orchard, figuring out what all is grown in it, what he can use and what he's not familiar with. But a few minutes is all he gets, apparently. Something drops like a stone onto his head from above, causing him to startle and swear under his breath. He catches it on instinct and then sort of . . . stares.]

[It's a rectangular package wrapped in a purple scarf, one he recognizes immediately. It ought to be somewhere in Cairo, probably still in the mansion in his clothes, unless Joseph thought to--well. It shouldn't be here. But it is. And when he opens it, the worn deck is still inside.]

That doesn't make any sense, [he murmurs to himself. But he sits down on the ground anyway, just right there in the grass and the dirt, and begins to flip through the deck to make sure everything's there.]

ii || all the things they sing about in gospels || closed to polnareff

[This has been a strange enough day already. Despite his misgivings, he can't figure out anything that would indicate that that isn't his deck. And he can't just leave it behind, so--he brings it along with him when he goes home, places it in the center of the coffee table and just stares at it for a while.]

[Which becomes stupid very quickly. He feels stupid. He groans a little, pushes himself up and rubs his face and goes to his room to change, since he's still got dirt on his pants.]

[Except he gets the closet door open at the exact same time he hears the front door open, and they're about equally startling, honestly, because he wasn't expecting Polnareff back so soon and he wasn't expecting this either, the rug curled up neatly in the corner of his closet like it's always been there.]

Polnareff!

[It comes out sharper than he intends it to, very much so, but he's a little panicked. Something very unsettling is happening, and he doesn't like it, because it means that someone or something knows personal things about him, and that's--not allowed. Not like this, anyway. Not anything close to like this.]

[He takes a deep breath and grits his teeth.]

Can you come in here, please.

[silvercrusader]

[He goes like a shot, too quickly, heart hammering despite himself. It's been two months, but that particular instinct hasn't died yet. It's not that he thinks Abdul can't handle himself; he knows better than that. It's just that one of these days that sharp call is going to come and he'll be too slow answering it, and suddenly--

Well, anyway. He strides in a moment later, Chariot hovering behind him, his eyes darting about for danger. But it's just Abdul in his room, standing there staring into his closet.]

What's the matter?

[A beat, and then:]

I didn't take anything again, all right, I found my coat last night, so don't start.

henry cheng / 2 closed + 1 open / will match format!

[robobees]

( festivals & saints; paper raven / closed to noah )

( it's almost funny, really, to find this gaudy-looking piece of "art" hanging out in one of the trees in the orchard – but there it is, in all its papered glory, multi-colored and just short of misshapen upon closer inspection. it doesn't look like something one might see at a festival taking place at a prestigious private acadamy, but no one has ever accused teenage boys of being particularly good at things like arts and crafts when they're already been trained in other areas of expertise. like politics.

but – there you go. )

( it wasn't julius caesar – but henry in a toga; a very specific sheet / emily's shop / open )

( sure, there's all kinds of fabric floating around in such a place at any given time – but that fabric, presumably, has never been a sheet of rather high threadcount. white. perfect toga material. and it might go unnoticed until someone chooses to take a closer look, to peer at length and take in the fact that it might actually be covered in a dusting of glitter, or might smell like it more appropriately belongs in a frat house.

we're so sorry this showed up in your space, em.

we'll find a way to make it up to you. promise. )

( but you're too old to be teething; adam's watch )

( it really is just another normal day beginning in ravenhaus. it's quiet, for the most part, having been one of the first to rise in hopes of procuring a nice cup of coffee – still rocking some of that instant stuff, thanks so much – and even if he doesn't make a habit out of being an early riser, he has to admit that there's something about being the first one rummaging about. the sort of feeling he would get when he just so happened to be the first to roll out of bed on a weekend at litchfield.

it's the sort of comfortable familiarity that still hasn't quite sunk in yet – not in this place, with these people that are still, slowly but surely, accepting him into their fold – but all the same, it's far better than being here alone.

( being surrounded by people that you trust, and who tentatively trust you in return is always going to be better than going at it alone. )

simultaneously reaching for a proper mug and the can of instant coffee, henry cracks a yawn as the can clinks against the countertop with a hollow, tinny sort of sound while the mug sets down with a muffled clunk. he blinks distractedly, running a hand through hair that has not been properly styled ( and hasn't been for some time, much to his dismay ) as its twin peels off the plastic lid to the container, digs around for the little scoop that will inevitably measure out the perfect amount –

and comes out with a bit of leather.

or what, at first, feels like a bit of leather and little else – but upon closer inspection ends up being an old, well-worn and chewed-on watch. he blinks again, dark brows furrowing above eyes that are beginning to clear of their sleepy haze, and he turns the watch over in his hands, taking in the numerous teeth marks spanning the length of both ends of the band.

curious.

the best part of waking up isn't completely folgers in your cup.

who'd have thought? )

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=18eaNSxhK5c

[repelling]

[ When Uryuu finally makes his way to the sewing shop, the exterior cute and distinctive, it is empty. He does not know how to approach this, as the other shops were stocked but without proprietors, yet this one looks different, feels different. No one has explained to Uryuu Ishida that this shop belongs to a young woman named Emily or that whatever's inside is not equally up for grabs.

At first merely taking stock, he is not yet in impending danger of offending an extremely formidable person. He walks around the tables, peers at the cloth and materials, lifts one pattern for inspection, resists the urge to reach into his bag, retrieve a pencil, and make a note.

At first that, but then he sees it.

Oh, and what a glorious it.

White cloth. So much white cloth. As he approaches it, his eyeglasses anime glinting, Uryuu recognizes it must be a bed sheet. Taking hold, Uryuu wrinkles his nose against the smell, notes, a little perplexed, the glitter, and shakes it out. His thumbs stroke over the fabric, feeling that thread count. His arms spread it wide. Yes, Queen. He could get two to five yards out of this, enough for -- perhaps not a whole uniform, but if he's careful --

That is how Uryuu Ishida would have definitely stolen from the shop of the worst person to steal from, if not for the extremely fortunate happenstance that the single piece of cloth he took, had actually been dumped there by the Door.

After taking advantage of the tables to make a few markings and measurements (with his own tools, at least), Uryuu sees himself out, intending to head right back to his apartment and get to work. Why not just do it there? He might be getting the sense there's someone he should speak to before making himself comfortable. ...which didn't stop him from taking the sheet. ]