I kinda forgot we're 'sposed t' use these...

Um...thank you everyone who talk t' me when I got here. An' I found Brother! If anyone knows 'im, his name's Alois!

And, um. [ Don't mind the tiny, he's a little shy addressing everyone at once suddenly. ] My name's Luca. An' it's nice t' meet everyone. And I'd like if we could all be friend, okay? [ Because when you're a small child in a prison, having friends for the first time is priority. :T ]

[ He'd come to the library on a whim thanks to a conversation he'd had earlier. It reminded him of something, something he'd been considering ever since he landed in this place. Now the urge to read the entire selection itself was far too tempting. So there he was, volume in hand as he thumbed through the pages in search for that one passage.

You're in for a little poetry today, it seems, inmates. ]

The mind is in its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.
What matter where, if I be still the same
And what I should be, all but less than he
Whom thunder hath made greater? Here at least
We shall be free: the Almighty hath not built
Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:
Here we may reign secure and in my choice
To reign is worth ambition, though in Hell:
Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.

[ And the volume is closed with a decisive thud. He takes a moment to set it down before taking his glasses off and wiping them with a handkerchief. ]

I can't help but wonder if any of you have considered that little passage in reference to our plight. It came to mind, earlier. Should we accept our fate as it is and make the most of the situation or should we fight to regain our freedom? It is after all, what we make of this place.

[ And the smallest smile. ]

Call me a curious man.

[ the beautiful, yet lazy boy appears again - surrounded by dozens upon dozens of butterflies. If anyone knows their locations, they'd know Dietrich was in the Butterfly Pavillion.]

I suppose things haven't been too horrific. For a jail, it isn't ... too bad. I'm surprisingly still in one piece, as I expected only brutes to be in a place as violent as it seemingly is projected.

Oh well- so I found a home but... this place is much more lovely. I tend to spend a lot of time here lately, I can lose myself here. It's safe~ right? I try to spend equal time in the library as well, I can capture a sense of something familiar there, anyway.

Well then, I guess I was wrong about this place -- but I won't hold my breathe forever. It's just as free as 'home' anyway.

[his voice is smile-smirking, hiding and in a way rather secretive. There's a hint of what could be sadness, but whether or not it's really there, false or truth, is hard to really tell. Either way, he'll just be here with the butterflies, dreaming of life.]

[Because of a promise he somehow ended up in, Atsuro’s busy looking up recipes and getting ingredients. He’s pretty alright with it, since he doesn’t mind cooking and it’s for a friend.

In the Shelter’s kitchens, he’s hard at work making what he’s set out to make: a parfait.

Because he's in the kitchens, anyone that knows him will see a rare sight. Atsuro with his hat off. Not only that, but he's wearing his hairclip to keep his hair out from his eyes.]

Did I get it right? [He mutters to himself, checking the recipe and how the dessert looks so far. Maybe he should ask for help...

Ignoring his haro’s remarks, he reaches out for his communicator and adjusts the privacy settings.]

[Video | Filtered from Yuuki Kuran]
Does anyone have experience with making parfait?

[Oh look, it's the rare and elusive Mr Hasn't Officially Made A Network Post Since Arriving.]

It's a bit late, I know, but when giving thanks for a good time one is never tardy, isn't that so? [The delay mostly being caused by Puck having spent a good deal of the last two days asleep.] You throw a great party, o new overlord. I suppose thanks go to Acumen too, wherever "he's" stored away now. No need to respond, by the way; I just wanted to get that out there.

But speaking of not responding... question~: Who is up for a little story-telling time? I'll start: "Once upon a time, in a world both near and far, there was a castle as pitch-black [there's just the slightest stress on that previous word; barely even there] as the darkest night..." Then you continue the story! Come one, come all; no need to be shy.

[Look how considerately vague he's being just to spare the frailer inmates from the horrible truth. ...The other option being that Puck just enjoys turning even the task of information gathering into a game. Not enough detailsss to stalk in Sentience's post.]

And if that premise doesn't speak to you, feel free to start your own, or even share a whole story. I might even tell one myself in exchange~

video. (backdated to mid-afternoon)

Everything has turned out kind of funny, strange— well, in a really good way, I mean.

[ alois trancy, too feminine, baby-face with springtime sky giant daydream crumb eyes, is resting his chin against the edge of a desk. familiar to some, and not to others, pretty and light voiced. he isn't looking directly at the camera, he seems half preoccupied with watching something else not far off screen.

there are crayons, watercolors, paintbrushes, and pastel covered pieces of paper close by, even under chin. ]

I think I might be a little scared, [ understatement, ] by how wonderful things have gotten so quickly. What if I waste too much time blinking and everything good flies away? Only the best of the best, the things really worth having, like to fly off or drop dead. It always happens, and I keep expecting it not to happen at all, even though I know it will. I'm not so sure I'm not only just sleeping right now. It's so strange, things are so strange. [ there's a pitch in his voice here; his own reality is shaking him. when you go from being locked up without anything for four years, expect being beaten, and a quiet house, to have the things you desire most drop into your lap in rapid succession—isn't that cause for constant panic?

don't you want to cling tighter?

this is alois, now.

too long lashes lower half-way (they can't see it, but he's gazing at unprofessionally painted swans and adonis blues), ] I might be falling in love with Marina. Sometimes I have to close my eyes and make sure my heart hasn't stopped beating, run out of steam, from all the things pouring into it. I'm really—

Ah! [ suddenly, he's sitting up very straight, looking much more attentive than he had. ] That's right. An order of business: Ciel Phantomhive, just how long do you intend to avoid me?

( (optional) action. )

( Deep Puck thoughts that mostly amount to 'be more fun, guys' )

( The actual spell )

[OOC: Feel free to thread amongst yourself, anywhere in the dome! Here's the OOC post for details.]

[There's a blur of pristine white when the video is first turned on, before the view shifts around, revealing a girl in a very unique costume, white make-up powder on her face, and fake eyelashes to go with the whole ensemble. She looks like a performer, and that's just what Doll is.

She doesn't seem to realize how the communicator works yet though]

Blimey. 'ow d'you use this thin'? [It's turned around in her hands, video whirling around a moment before it focuses on her face again, bright blue eyes peering at it curiously. The only reason she's addressing it is because it seems to be able to talk somehow, so she puts it back on like it'd been when she'd first woken up] 'ello? Brother Joker? Sister Beast? Where's everyone?

[A pause, because the bed she'd been on her way to after that night's performance is gone – her surroundings now of an unfamiliar street – and so is the boy who should have been sleeping there as well. There's no sign of him, but she calls out anyway] Smile, you alrigh'..?

[ There's a boy in Victorian-style clothing seated outside of the library. He's currently scowling down at the convenient Marina brochure received by new inmates, his brow furrowed as he reads through it a second time. Given that it isn't any more palatable this time than the first, he sets it aside momentarily, instead choosing to remove his communicator--which is fitted to wear over his left eye, thankfully, as it would be rather useless over his right--and fiddle with it, turning it to and fro in his hands and inspecting it from every angle. He knows what it's for. The brochure had done a good enough job describing that, at least. But how it actually works is another matter entirely.

Ciel has hardly moved since arriving in the prison; the restraint around his leg is rather uncomfortable and terribly cumbersome to walk with. He looks fairly miffed, but you should definitely come bother him anyway. He could probably use some help with that communicator, if nothing else.

Oh, and he's called a certain butler's name twice already, so he'd best be on his way. ]

[There is vampire sitting on the ground against a tree in the middle of the butterfly pavilion. Though Zero is an expert at hiding his emotions, those who know him well might notice an aura of confusion and sadness on his normally expressionless face.

Bloody Rose on his lap, his fingers of one hand wrapped around the silver gun as his thumb slid across the cool metal. If anything, Zero looks distracted and lost in his own thoughts as he watches the butterflies dance and weave above him.

Several moments pass until he finally speaks.]

If given a second chance at something you regretted, would it be a waste to make the same choice?

[ oh, marina asylum! good morning! a rather pretty pretty face is presenting itself in the communicator. it's a bit belatedly, but oh, well, right? the cheeks are round (a bit of remaining baby fat), eyes blue and pale, eyelashes extraordinarily thick and long—although, golden not black or brown—and hair honey in color, but a little unkempt. it's incredibly youthful, and girlish just as much as it is boyish and vice versa. for a brief moment, there's a really concentrated look, and then— ]

It's really personal to be able to know all of that—[ the break between speaking is very slight; the accent is british, light and airy, and a little more raspy than what's normal for him. (his throat is a bit raw, you see.) ] My entire life. If you're going to be so sodding personal about it, the least you could do is address me properly. It isn't, "Welcome, inmate," it's: "Welcome, the Earl Alois Trancy of Buckinghamshire."

[ this is clearly important. clearly. his face rises a little and he slides his eyes shut in what's supposed to look like offended dignity. acumen, you are such lowlife. ]

Oh, but perhaps we don't even need titles. Oh, no. Let's just do without them completely. [ it's funny, because there's a half-truth to this. for all his aristocratic and snobby airs, he really fucking hates nobles. legitimate nobles. people born with silver spoons in their mouths who act as though the world owes them everything, and isn't that a laugh? hypocrisy? oh, hell yes! but, he doesn't care. ] Addressing the Earl by 'Alois Trancy'—or, hell, even Alois alone should be dandy, shouldn't it? But, inmate is not acceptable.

If I'm to remain here the rest of my li—

[ there's a quiver in his tone, a choke. his teeth set, his eyes clench, and he swallows very, very hard. —alois arrived sometime during the night, and being easily prone to night terrors, he had not slept through it. he awoke and imagine his dismay, of course, when he found he was not in his own bed. the majority of the rest of the night and early morning, once arriving, was spent throwing the most massive tantrum.

he screamed, hollered, wailed, sobbed, and called out for claude—his butler—time and time again. 'Houheo taralna, rondero tarel' was chanted again and again and again, in throat ruining desperation. he wrecked his welcome basket and did his best to throw himself against a wall, because someone needs to be punished for keeping him from claude (he didn't walk away without a few bruises, either). it's been hours later, and claude still hasn't appeared. he is devastated and furious. and!, in spite of his needless complaining, he's teetering. poorly trying to keep himself together. to say he's 'calmed down,' is an overstatement. he's simply bitter. ]

... Life. The rest of my life, then you'll call me 'Alois,' at the very least. [ 'inmate' sounds like a thing and fuck that, if he's going to feel like an object again. ]

Oh—! Though, I have to tell you: this is my first time seeing the ocean! [ his voice pitches here. it's lilting, amused, like suddenly he's having a friendly chat. (yeah, what? this kid.) ] I always knew it would be beautiful, because it's so large and so fucking deep, [ oh, best brace yourself for crude language, too, ] but I hadn't imagined to what extent. A lot of things are really easy to imagine, but there's probably not enough room in our brains alone to comprehend all the things that can be found in the ocean. In a way, I suppose you could say, you've given me something I've always wanted.

It's true, it's my first time seeing it, and I always suspected when Claude would finally take me to the shore I would only get to see the surface. And, as far into it I'd go would be up to my shoulders. The surface is really lovely, too, though. How it sits so close to the sky, like they're kissing. I've seen it in paintings and I'm always so jealous of the ladies who are painted next to them. Rivers and lakes aren't as beautiful. They don't have that sort of blue. They're only green and dirty. 'Paint my portrait, too, Claude,' I've asked him, but we're always too busy and much too far from the seaside. From anywhere, really. I don't think I've been anywhere outside of Buckinghamshire in ... hum, well, quite a long time! [ he giggles a little, and the recording shows him rocking slightly. he's sitting upon some mats, doing his best to avoid exercising entirely, and kicking one of his legs with youthful enthusiasm. ] Oh, ahaha, I've almost forgotten. Of course you must have known all that. You watch very closely, don't you? I wonder, just what kind of 'artificial life form' you are, Mister Acumen? Should you be evaluating yourself for crimes, too?

—Ah. [ his eyes widen a bit, and he stills. his head cants. ] I'm really well taken care of, you know. Just what do you intend to have me do about food, and bathing, and dressing?



(bitty ooc note!: ack, i um. could be wrong about this...? feel free to correct me! but, as it's tuesday, i'm assuming alois is in sector six for exercise today. c: please, feel free to run into him or visit him or whatevs!)

[As his face appears on the feed, little Ciel Phantomhive clears his throat, evidently about to say something important, hence the throat-clearing.]

After much consideration, I have decided to extend an invitation to all the homeless or home-seeking inmates of Marina to my manor in sector five. There is plenty of room within. [Plenty.] However, I do wish for an interview beforehand. I will not let just anyone to live here, so certain qualities must be fulfilled.

Please visit me at any time during the day if you are interested. Please note that I am highly interested in those who enjoy cooking, cleaning, gardening or all three. It is not required, however, to meet this criteria.

[Pauses, as if he's about to turn the camera off, but then he turns and offers a small smile to all of Marina. A very convincing one at that. He's been working on it.]

I look forward to your visit.

((OOC: If you had plans to shove your character into Ciel's manor, here's the place! If you're homeless and just kind of want a random place to stay, do it here! I'm willing to plot out OOCly and right here in the thread as well~))

[Rose is sitting on a park bench in Sector 4. She's got a big cardboard tray filled with chips next to her and she's poking at them with a bit of a puzzled look on her face.]

Anyone ever notice the chips are a bit off? Not by a lot. Just...somethin' missin' besides bein' wrapped in yesterdays post.

[At first, the only thing that appears on the screen is a vibrant blue parrot and the arm it's perched on in front of the pet cafe. It flaps around a bit and makes some noise, but for a few minutes that's all there is; no speaking or human face and the only thing that indicates there might be a person is that small glimpse of arm at the bottom of the screen.

And then that few minutes is up and the person behind the bird moves the camera to reveal Tamaki Suoh, self-proclaimed king of the Host Club. He's smiling, of course, and is just generally overflowing with excitement.]

Look! Look everyone! Isn't he beautiful? I hadn't expected to walk out with a pet when I went to the pet shop today, but when I saw him I simply couldn't just leave him there! Ah, I wonder what I should name him... His name must be as majestic and beautiful as he is... Perhaps Kyouya will have some suggestion on what his name should be. Or if anyone else has an idea I would love to hear it! I'm sure they're all wonderful ideas!

I can't wait to bring him everywhere with me! I'd been so alone without Antoinette it's a wonder that I had survived so long without a pet until now. [Becomes slightly serious here, but not very serious.] I suppose I'll have to go to the library to find books about taking care of parrots. Antoinette was a dog so taking care of this little guy won't be the same as taking care of her and I won't have the servants to help me... No matter, I'm sure the others would be more than happy to assist me!

Ah, this is marvelous! I'm so excited to have pet here now! Pets make everything so much better! You can speak to them and play with them and they'll never complain or ignore you! [This would probably the the perfect place for anyone to tune Tamaki out if that hasn't been done already. At this point he's just going to be making unintelligible noises for no other reason than a lack of words to express his excitement.]

[MOMO was in the library looking over some cookbooks. Yesterday's excitement had reminded her that she was still in the prison without anyone from home, so she was keeping to herself a bit today. However, she'd still like some company if anyone was up for it. Give her recipe ideas?]

[The video feed turns on, and maybe this face will seem familiar to some people here as he's walking, talking a good look at his surroundings]

Is this supposed to be some sort of world change?

[He takes note of the communicator as well as the welcome message he's greeted by] No-- maybe not, this device is different.

Tch. Leaving one place and ending up stuck in another, that's not what I had in mind.

[Cue a small lord appearing on the feed. He's holding the communicator out and staring into it. His appearance is disheveled and his tie is clearly tied wrong. His eyepatch is practically falling off. He dressed himself this fine morning.

Also, he's pissed.]

Sebastian is not here. [There is no question about it. His butler isn't in the dome.] Your "system" has clearly glitched. Not only has my butler disappeared, but the day has advanced. What is the meaning of this? I want answers.

[There's a shift, and apparently he's crossed his legs. If you listen closely, you might hear the smallest of growls. He's hungry, but he's far too proud to say it. Not to mention his head is literally pounding... Great, his demon is missing, he's hungry and his head hurts. This is clearly an off day.]

Now.

Does anyone have any funny stories?

[Saki's back at the Force headquarters after her brief stay away after having her cast removed earlier in the morning.

Hunched over the dispatch board, feet locked around the chair legs and nursing her second cup of coffee -- answer her easy question or find her there, because she's bored and trying to distract herself from the new arrivals, and lack thereof.]

[When Ciel first awakes, he feels that his day will be just as annoying as it usually would be. However, upon breakfast time, it became evident that his main annoyance was gone. With further investigation, he discovered that not only was Alois gone, but he wasn't even in the dome.

Now, Ciel feels that he should be happy about this. However, the young boy is very disgruntled. And the fact that he doesn't know why he's disgruntled just leaves him even angrier.

Too furious to sit still, Ciel ventured out to the butterfly pavilion, where he is now resting on a bench. In his hands is a bag of homemade chocolates that he never even opened. His eyes narrow, obviously irked.]

Tch. This is nothing but trash...

[Despite the fact that he says this, that bag of chocolates is still in his hands.]

[Alois could have given Ciel the chocolates at home where no one else would have been the wiser after he had finishing making chocolates with Chibiusa. That would have been no fun though. Instead he had chosen to have Ciel meet him in the middle of the most public street in the dome and so he stood there waiting, rocking back and forth on his feet and holding the chocolates he had gotten behind his back.

He just knew Ciel wouldn't keep him waiting too long though.]