Gee, we should have wars more often around this place. Nothing like a little battling to remind a guy of just how boring this place can get. I mean, sure, Wily was no genius at taking over the world or anything, but at least he kept stuff interesting when he wasn't failing at it.

But yeah, fun curse! Not as much of a party as when those Steward guys showed up, but hey, they can't all be winners. Boy, that was a long time ago.

So what's with all the girls today?

[OOC: Action for doujin_dork, Network for everybody else.]

So as people may know, I've been hired as the chief accountant of Blair's company. I'm truly honored and excited for the upcoming work it will bring. It's definitely something new, and we all know how much I like that. I plan to continue with regular hours for the shop- however, if that becomes too much, I may shorten the hours a bit. Don't worry, Tom, that won't affect any further instruction you may be looking for.

I'd really like to meet all the other hirees, get us started off on the right foot. Perhaps I should put together a little something at my place? Not today, though. I'm rather occupied. But hey, feel free to say hi. I'm a friendly guy, promise.

Anyone else want some pie? I think we're going to have some leftovers here.

( ooc )

If you're from polychromatic, please remove this journal from your friendlists.

This journal is being reused elsewhere, and future updates are likely to follow.

Don't people get enough of war? Honestly, it's not that exciting or that glorious. Mostly it's just a lot of slogging through dirt and grime and people getting hurt or dying. Once I thought there was glory and honor in it, but now, I'm just glad to be living my peaceful life.

I hope everyone is okay.

Alice, if you please, I would like to pick you up this afternoon. Would you like a cake? I picked up a raspberry cream one this afternoon, for tea. You can invite a friend or two, if you like. I'm sorry that it took so long for me to feel better, really.

Okay, so we're into November. At the end of the month is my two year anniversary in the City. Two years...it seems like such a long time. But the truth is, two years isn't very long at all. I guess it's sort of alarming, how time passes. So many things have changed.

IF I GET KIDNAPPED OR NEARLY SHOT OR BLOWN UP ONE MORE TIME SOMEONE IS GOING TO DIE. SO MUCH.

I feel like I should press charges.

[Voice Post]
((Click.))
((There's no pause, nor hesitation. Cain's voice is certain and determined, but muffled as well, as though he's balancing his Network device between his shoulder and his ear. In the background are a few, very small mechanical sounds. ... And farther away still, the sounds of war.))

Fakir, I'm sure you're already standing guard over the opera house. Riff and I will too.

I admit, I'd expected all this to end last night. I kept watch from the roof and waited for midnight, but the fighting didn't end. So we may have to endure this for another day--and maybe even a third.

((There's are a few sharp metallic sounds--recognizable to some, perhaps, as bullets rattling against bullets.))

We prepared ourselves purposefully for this, you know, with those provisions.

If you're not keeping watch, you should go down to the basements. It's safest there, so long as one doesn't go down too deeply into the passageways. Stay near the surface, but keep yourself deep enough for shelter. It's served well enough before in fights and storms. And for heaven's sake, don't go out today. We'll keep the doors closed and bolted, and keep a watch on them. So far, none of the fighting seems very close. I've seen a few fights in the streets, but nothing more than that. The real fighting seems much farther out, but there's no reason to think it'll stay there.

There've been wars before here, I admit, but nothing like this. There were curses that made us think we were in the midst of war, and we've attacked one another enough times. We defended ourselves against the 'Stewards' once and, so I'm told, against the living dead another time.

((A dull, thundering sound--an explosion, perhaps, somewhere in the distance.

But I've never seen war amongst us ourselves in such a way. I saw the soliders marching by in the streets--scores of them. It's almost as though the visitors who swarm the City every so often have come back, but as soldiers, as armies following generals in the City, that's how many of them there seem to be.

((Small clicks as those rattling bullets are loaded, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6... Then, a long silence...))

And where there are soldiers, there is war. And we're to use the opera house as a fortress once again.

((Another pause. Then a short, rueful laugh...))

Hah. I suppose some of you will think it amusing that I've so little to say this time. I've more important things to do today.

((A sharp click as he closes his revolver. And another sharp click as he turns off his Network device again.))
((Click.))
[//voice post ends]

[ooc: He's not fighting in the war, but he's standing guard. Once again, sharpshooting from the roof! Also, I'd like to apologize for my intense fail recently. School has been putting me through the wringer, alas. But it's starting to get back under control, so I'll be kicking around more...I think |D It'll only be icky for another few days, at least. I still feel super distracted and a little "off" so bear with me please! I promise things are clearing up.]

The anonymity was lifted after midnight. ...That was the first time it happened. I suppose a change could be good. I predicted a plot twist.

Revealing curses yesterday as well. Was I right about the theme? Those affected couldn't hide their actions or inner thoughts of the moment. What would be next? Another of those curses we speak out our mind without thinking?

I want to tell my friends I am-

But enough of the City, I want to ask something maybe personal to some: What sort of fairy tales do you like the most? What is your favorite fable?

[You know how when you're on vacation and you intend to spend most of it reading, but then your relatives insist you should go to the aquarium and "connect with your inner dragon"? No? Really? Well, Hatori does, and he's not in a great mood because of it.

Regardless, he IS at the aquarium in Center City. And the astute observer will be able to notice that whenever he walks by some sea horses, they plaster themselves against the front glass, trying to get to him. Poor little things. Hatori's being so cold towards them. Anyone can feel free to run into him. His icy stare is much worse than his bite.

For those on the Network, there IS a post by him that has the text below.]

Suspicious and bizarre activity aside, this place is at least interesting to see.

There was a vampire who had found something close to happiness in his life. Perhaps not true happiness, but something close to it.

That vampire has awakened somewhere strange and now finds himself in a cafe seated at this computer, writing out his actions. Somewhere in his mind there are flickering memories that haunt him, of this city, of people here, of curses and angels and even of Belle Morte.

He knows this is madness, but he cannot stop himself, nor stop the wisps of remembrance that dance along the edges of his mind.

[ooc: A fair bit of urple ahoy. It's a genre thing.]

Lord Cain Hargreaves, Earl of Hargreaves, was again at his Network device. It had been a quiet morning, which was a mercy, even if there was, obviously, a curse with which to contend. However, as it hadn't transformed anyone into animals, cast anyone's soul out as an animal, set any mad animals loose in the City, nor any of the other millions of maladies curses so often wrought, it could be fairly easily ignored. A quiet morning and a mild curse were blessings in a place like the City.

But for all the peace and quiet he might enjoy, his mind was not entirely at rest. Cain had in his nature a somewhat unfortunate tendency to brood. It was not immediately apparent, at least not to those who met him when he wanted most to be met: at parties, in parks, on certain streets or boulevards. But he still carried it, and little wonder if one knew the whole of his life. But he said little of that and was asked less, and that was how he would keep matters. For those who knew his father, it might be said that it was something in the blood, but that was a blood tie Cain resented, as he did with all ties he strained against with his father.

Still, he was keeping to himself purposefully, and had since early Friday morning. Since he now had reason to fear retribution for the revels and bonfires of two days ago for which it was now clear that he was, at least in part, responsible, he thought it might be best if he were to keep a low profile. It was a practical matter more than anything. Retribution by the 'deities' (which was a sorry stop-gap name for them, and he insisted on using it only as the nearest shorthand for whatever those creatures really were), if it were to come, would likely be wretched and long-lived. Of course they knew who it was who had played rabble-rouser in the days before the bonfires. And now everyone knew who had suggested making effigies for the bonfires in the likenesses of the 'deities'--indeed, more than suggesting it, he had helped to carry it out. He had been bold behind his mask, almost uncharacteristically. He was bold by nature too, but he was no rabble-rouser. An idea had occurred to him, and the opportunity had presented itself. Perhaps he had only been carried away by it.

But it had still been a bright thing to see those figures burned.

Then, of course, there was the inevitable end to the curse. Such an end is a mercy most times. But the other associated troubles, the revelation of who, exactly had said what where on the Network, would pose a problem. The disappearance of the masks had been less so. A great part of the City was walking around the fires, so what difference would it make who was there? But when the call went up that names were then attached again to the things said, as they were attached to things done, he had decided, or perhaps realised, even as the clocks were chiming midnight that night of the bonfires--though who could hardly hear the clocks over the roar of the fires and the shouts and songs around them?--that it would serve him best to keep to himself for a few days thereafter. He would only attend to the things most necessary to do: he would see to the cafe, he would attend to anything in the opera house, he would send Riff on errands here and there, and he would quietly wash the scent of smoke and ashes out of his clothing.

The fires had been beautiful though, in that fierce way that fires have. There is always something primordial and frightening about them. It is easy to see why some would say Hell itself is full of nothing but fire. All the figures around them were made of smoke and shadows, and the fire burned hot and relentlessly before them all. But above it were the lights and glitter that were half stars and half sparks. The stars too burned brightly and hotly, and the fire answered them, throwing up sparks of its own to match. In that distance, in that sharing of light to light, the yellow stones of the stars and the orange jewels of the fire, there was quiet.

It had struck him the next day that the sheer number of fires he'd witnessed in his own time should have made him reconsider lighting bonfires in the midst of the City. He was no arsonist. He, and anyone with sense, knew well not to risk destroying one's own house in the pursuit of beauty or light or heat. And he could not easily forget the fires that consumed the crooked house in which he'd found Merry, and those same fires that consumed too the crooked little girl who lived there. There were too many fires, and too many fires in too many patterns at that. He would forever see Merry's face across the flames, smeared with soot and afraid. He would forever remember the fireworks and the explosions in the middle of a carnival, like a war in a courtyard, making scorched ruins out of new-built towers and terraces. These places soaked with blood and smeared with ashes would not soon be healed. They would linger like scars, like the scarred memories he carried in his mind.

But he was removed from all that here, if that was any comfort. All of that was held in waiting, attending on his arrival. He could fairly see it in his mind the day he'd return. In his mind's eye, it was something like a train pulling away from a station, or like a stone tossed from bridge. The train moves slowly at first, then gains speed until it is clear that speed is the only thing it has ever known. The stone seems to hang in midair for a moment before dropping, faster and faster into the river below. So he imagines his return: he was find himself back in his own time, and his time will rush to catch up with him and carry him off again. And he will be glad to go, even to such a war as the one to which he knows he must return. A tallying of the days, as he has always kept in his journal, proves that it has now been two years and six months and a handful of days since the City first drew him in, and he is hastily drawing upon the anniversary of his one, only, and very brief visit home. Perhaps it was a favour or a joke of the City to send him home for the span of time in which his birthday would have fallen in the City. Of course he was nowhere near that in his own time, nor was it even in his mind. But there was a knot in that: what age was he?

And that was a thought to entertain idle hours--idle hours of which he had too many these recent days. There is a tedium and a nervousness to lying in hiding and in wait. He has endured it before, whether it be because the City is under attack, because of a curse, or because of one of the once various and dangerous enemies--the ones who forced all those who lived in the opera house to make it less a place for music than a fortress. But it has served well, and he has grown accustomed to waiting.

There is, really, little else to do in the City besides wait: one waits for a curse to end, one waits for the next curse to begin, and one waits to return home. And the waiting is, of course, no easier for one than for any of the others.

And so, as he had done often in idle hours or for entertainment (for the City lacked a great deal), he turned again to the Network, reading, observing, for there is no study more involving than the study of one's fellow man.

~C.

[ooc: MY TL;DR IS THE MOST TL;DR OF ALL TIME. OF ALL TIME. MY TL;DR PWNS YOU ALL. We're going as florid and Victorian and 19th century novel as we can today~]

So first everybody decides wearing shades is the cool new thing, and then a couple days later it's wearing masks and blowing stuff up?

Gee. Who knew I was such a trendsetter.

If you consider Tuesday curse, this one is less of a nuisance. Instead of stripping us of our privacy, we are fully unrecognizable. What is this month about? Falsehoods and truths? Identities? Hmpf. As if I care. I am just glad to know that we have left October behind.

Kaoru, Rosella, Doumeki, Jun. I--

...

What is that noise about? There had to be vandalism under the guise of anonymity.

( Private: Thoughts )

So we're all masked and hidden, both in person and on the Network. This sort of ordeal with the Network happened once before when our names were detached from our words on the Network, and we've had masks something like this in the City before. But we've never had the two together, and never quite in such a way. It's a fascinating curse, really.

But it does mean that there is a curse today after all. I should have known, really. At least it's not as bad as I'd expected. I'm still myself, even if I'm not quite myself, nor myself on the Network. It does make one feel a bit freer, doesn't it? That's the purpose of a mask, after all: one is not oneself anymore. But I explained that on the night of masquerade.

I think there should be a bonfire on Bonfire Night after all. There's nothing to keep us from doing it--there are no fires or fireworks shooting through the City. We're most of us disguised and hidden today. I can't tell one person from another, save by their style of writing or trick of speech, but that's the only thing. And isn't that a bit like the sort of mob who would light a bonfire in a City square?

Anyone with matches, interest, or fuel for the fire, come to the Square after sunset. We'll make the bonfire there. And if you've fireworks, bring those too. We'll make a celebration of this yet.

But, of course, to really have a bonfire like this, you'll need a Guy. Another citizen of this lovely City and I have agreed that we ought to make a Guy modeled after one of the 'deities'. Perhaps we should make one for each of the 'deities'. So bring old clothes and straw, if you have any. There's a barn and a stable just outside of town. We can fetch straw from there. There are five 'deities' I think--three women and two men. Surely we can make five Guys for the fire. We'll need a white doctor's coat for one of them, if someone would be so kind as to donate one. Otherwise, well, perhaps there's to be a little more masked trouble this evening. I should very much like to see all five of them there on the fire.

Of course, we may suffer for it. The 'deities' may know who we each are behind these masks, but they still let us act a little differently from ourselves today. Today we can say things on the Network we might not ordinarily say and do things we might not ordinarily do. It's a dangerous thing, this kind of anonymity. There is no responsibility nor any limitation. We may pay for it tomorrow, but it's almost worth it tonight.

So a bonfire for Bonfire Night. I think it would be perfectly splendid. And who would complain about it with the weather as cool as it is? And there will certainly be fireworks eventually. Why wouldn't everyone want to attend? Especially if we're going to be burning the 'deities' in effigy.

There were rumours of rebellion earlier this summer, but those seem to have died entirely. It's a shame really. But it's more a wonder that we've never really risen up against the 'deities'. Are we afraid of them? Are we so certain we'll lose if we fight them? I've actually defended this City, and more than once. I can't believe that I have now. But I've been here for quite some time. One does many things that one can't believe. I suppose this is another one of them for me.

So come to the bonfire and bring your matches and your wood, if for nothing else then for the warmth of it. One can hardly refuse a celebration, really, especially not a rebellious one on a day when no one knows your face. We've some freedom for the moment, and I intend to take it.

[ooc: Cuuuuuuuursed! But also taking the opportunity >:3 You'll notice he didn't sign this entry, for example (not that that really hides him at all). But why not seize the chance, right? So, in short, Cain got to talking about bonfires and the idea came up that maybe they should make a Guy for the bonfires. Namely, a Guy that resembles the deities. Or at least one of them. Laszlo, actually. The dude's an easy target as much as he's on the Network. So! Anyone want to volunteer a doctor's white coat for the cause? :D Anyone want to volunteer anything else? The bonfire itself will be small and not hurt anything in the City.]

It is very rarely that I find myself almost wishing to have been cursed when I was not. But... I feel like I may have benefited from it. Though there is no use wishing. "If wishes were fishes we would all cast nets", "If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride"... and etcetera.

[filtered from ishida uryu;

I am in need of advice concerning a gift for... a friend?... someone I respect?... someone who is very important to me.

Should I stay with the "traditional" gift giving practice, such as this?

Or... do a "personal" gift, which I am afraid may be considered by the receivers as somewhat eclectic and perhaps... "odd".

There is also the option of a "useful" gift- but I am afraid such a gift may appear mundane and lacking effort.

... it is a very complicated process, gift giving.

...It's quiet around here.


[Filtered to friends EXCEPT ISHIDA//unhackable]

For those of you that know Ishida, his birthday is on the 6th. We should have a party.

I think it's probably best that I kept to myself yesterday. I was still so exhausted by all the tourists, visitors, travelers, or whatever else they might call themselves coming here over the weekend that I decided to take a day or two to recover. I hardly kept off the Network entirely, but even a little distance is like going into hiding in a place like this. It never ceases to amaze me how dependent we are on these devices. But I think I've had enough of keeping to myself.

Either way, there was a curse going on, or so I'm told, but I don't know what was going on. There seemed to be absolutely nothing to see, nor especially much on the Network. As an acquaintance pointed out, there seemed to be a great many people wearing dark glasses. And from that I could infer a great many things. Perhaps people were struck blind--although they didn't seem to act as such. Or perhaps there was something wrong with their eyes, perhaps they were sensitive to the light. Or perhaps there was something more and worse. Perhaps, without the glasses, everyone's face seemed hideous and nightmarish. I know there was a curse like that a year or more ago, when we all found elaborate masks. But those masks wouldn't come off once we'd put them on, and then we all became the things we seemed. I suppose it could very well have been something like that.

Or perhaps someone would be so kind as to inform me about the curse yesterday. That was I can stop making guesses like this. Apparently I wasn't affected by it yesterday, nor can I very easily puzzle out what it was about. All the same, I'll be grateful that I wasn't affected by that one. Every curse dodged ought to be appreciated. And I hope the young lady I spoke to on the Network about that very thing hears that.

Tomorrow's November the 5^th, and where I come from there would be bonfires and fireworks tomorrow, and perhaps a party or two, depending on whether the fireworks were to be set off in someone's garden or at someone's house. Of course, most everyone is out in the country this time of year, but there are enough people still around for a few decent fires.

There are enough Londoners and Englishmen here, I think. Perhaps we ought to have a bonfire and fireworks here in the City. There was a young lady once, named Evey, who organised a bonfire and fireworks in the Square. I could organise a bonfire, perhaps, but I know I could set off any fireworks.

And yet, I'm still more than a little concerned that there might be a curse tomorrow. It seems the sort of thing the 'deities' might find amusing to spoil or twist. Fire and fireworks seem to be among their favorite things.

Why is it that holidays I know are often the ones that have wretched curses during them? Yes, Christmas usually escapes mostly unscathed, but we've celebrated a Chinese new year and a Chinese lantern festival, both of which were perfectly amazing. I don't object to celebrating other holidays from other countries, of course. I think we've nearly all adopted the American custom of Thanksgiving towards the end of this month. Really, who objects to a celebration or a holiday? And yet, I'm fretting over what they might to do to holidays that I know. They usually strike Hallowe'en, St Valentine's Day, New Year's Day--the days that seem 'ripest' for ruining.

I've no idea what might happen tomorrow, but I shouldn't be surprised if there is a curse. For all I know, the City itself might become one giant bonfire tomorrow. That would be to the taste of the 'deities' I think. Or we'll all be dodging fireworks. Or perhaps fireworks will light the City on fire.

Of course they'll all be put out after a day of panic, and the City will be restored the next day.

Knowing that a curse will end doesn't ease the trouble of the curse at the time one is enduring it.

I'm glad to have dodged yesterday's, but I feel almost certain that there will be another tomorrow.

Now, can anyone tell me what the curse yesterday actually was?

~C.

[ooc: Okay, let me sincerely, sincerely apologize for not posting more/at all on 4th Wall Weekend--especially when I know people were hoping to spam with some of my characters ;; But here's the deal: I have done something seriously horrible to my left shoulder and sitting at the computer for too long is serious agony (hell, sometimes moving at all is serious agony). To top it off, I'm now balls deep in the semester and starting to find myself up against some deadlines. So I'm in and out a little, that's why. Please don't hesitate to poke me, prod me, or remind me of things. I'd hiatus, but RP is the thing that keeps me going during weeks like these ;; Bear with meeeeeeeeeeeeeee sob.]

I-

No.

Okay, first thing's first.

Rosella, could you please....could you please take care of Alice for a couple of nights? I think that I'm probably not very fit, right now, to take care of her, but I'm sure that I'll be better very shortly. Alice, is that okay? Would you rather go somewhere else? If you would, I don't mind.

I won't be in at the bar for a few days. Promise I trust that you'll see to everything. Peter, if something comes up, let me know right away.

I just can't believe that after this weekend...

Flycatcher went home. If you were friends with him. I just went to the Hall, to check on the people I saw, this morning...and there he was. I suppose Haven needs him way more than I do.

I'm sorry, buddy. I hope I was a good friend to you. Don't miss me too much. I'm okay here.

Just a little lonely.

[And this begins to play]




[ooc: First strike to Peter, second strike hackable]

2 days of this again? ... As long as you're capable of a civil conversation and able to keep your hands to yourself, I will converse with you. Perhaps even give you an autograph.


[OOC: Go wild, 4th wallers.]

Ah....whew. I guess they should be all gone today.

I'm almost kinda disappointed, you know? Some of them are really nice. And it's interesting to see people from different worlds. But I figured that after the pumpkin patch, Fakir would be pretty mad about me doing something "dangerous" like that...soooooo....

((OOC: Anything is fair game with her! Doubles, 4th walling, any ratings, etc. This is your official permission to screw with her.
I'm fine with backdating on Chrono's entry, too if any of you still wanted to poke 'em.))

Will you people just stop--

Stop.

Fucking.

STALKING ME.

THIS IS THE FOURTH DAMN TIME I'VE HAD TO DEAL WITH THIS, AND NONE OF YOU EVER LEARN.


[[ooc; As usual, anything goes! ETA: Trick-or-treaters! Sry, I'll be in and out for a few hours.]]