[They don't feel good. It's an irritating, churning feeling in their gut, and they're becoming restless and moody because of it. They've holed themselves up in a particularly sturdy tree, seeking the shade and the cold. They'll likely be up their all night, if they have their way.]

[They can't stop thinking about what happened to Orihime--and indirectly, how ready they were to flay the girl that attacked her right to the bone.]

[What's happened to them? Who are they? Man, or monster?]

What sort of critters would you all like to see in a zoo? [quietly, without their usual pep and vigor]( Read more... )

It's getting warmer. We should really start baseball practice again soon. [He usually sounds more excited about baseball stuff, doesn't he? It's been a rough few days...week...weeks?]

Ughhhhhhhhhhh. Oooooooooooooooh.

Hmm? Oh, and this is Morgif. [He holds up the sword with the moving face.] I guess he wanted to say hi too.

[The young king moves his hand to hit the private button. It's not hard to private a conversation. Just hit the right button and then make sure it tells you it's private. Yep, definitely not hard. But he hit the map button instead and isn't looking at the communicator, so one not so private message coming up!]

Fai? Um...I'm really sorry about what happened at the costume party with the...blood and you know. I hope your neck is feeling better. I wasn't really me. I mean I was me, but I wasn't me-me. But I'm still really sorry!

(OOC: Backdated to earlier.)

[OOC: SPAM MESSAGE HAS NO TRACE OF IZAYA'S HANDLE/NAME 8). Feel free, DF or otherwise, to respond to his lollerskates time/Itachi's SHAME or JUST IGNORE. AHHAHA AND BECAUSE I'M FAIL AND DIDN'T CLARIFY: Izaya messed with the computers in the education center and got them to send an email to everyone's communicators. THANKS MOD D8 ♥]

SENDER: Uchiha Itachi

MESSAGE: Heiwajima. Heiwajima. Heiwajima. Heiwajima. Heiwajima. Heiwajima. Heiwajima. Heiwajima. Heiwajima. Heiwajima. Heiwajima. Heiwajima. Heiwajima. Heiwajima. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Cut. Mother's wish. Strong people. I want to love strong people. I love them so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so much. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Cut. Shizuo.

*There is one dhampir who looks very ill at ease.*

It has come to my attention that the accidental introduction of pesticides to clothing will render clothing damaged. It will need to be repaired.

*This might be why the dhampir is looking out of sorts. He doesn't part with his Victorian finery at all.* So...what exactly do people wear in the modern time that isn't...completely outlandish?

*Clearly, this dhampir is in need of assistance. Will you help him?*

[Welcome home, Tyki. You'll notice as you enter not a thing has been disturbed for your intruder to get in. After all, who needs to force a lock or even turn a door knob when you can just walk through the door?

You'll find the light on in the kitchen and a girl in a white tank top and jeans sitting on your kitchen counter taking a closer look at your microwave. She'll just make a few adjustments. It's in better shape than she expected.

On the table is a deep dish pizza—sausage and pepperoni with green peppers. It's her favorite. Sorry, they were out of koi. There is also a mini pumpkin pie and a can of whip cream. She figures that's all for her since someone doesn't like sweets.

She doesn't look up when she hears footsteps.]

You know you're pretty much out of everything.