PARABOLICAL GRAFFITI

Uh Oh.

( A singing Max is not a happy Max. )

I'm getting tired of explaining this. So, once and for all...

Schway: Cool. Hip. Awesome. Used in a sentence, "Oh my God, that song is totally schway."

Twip: Idiot. Twit. If the person is older than fourth grade? Jackass. Used in a sentence, "My little brother, Matty, is such a twip."

Slag: It's a verb. Kinda like being lazy, or ditching something you're supposed to do. Used in a sentence, "Slag off work after school and come to the arcade with me." Or you can use it like "slag off!" Kinda like, "fuck off!"

Dreg: Thug. Gang member. Lowlife. Used in a sentence, "There're a bunch of dregs mugging a woman in the alley."

Creds: Money. Used in a sentence, "How many creds do you have?"

Slappers: Drugs. Well, really, it's a specific drug (weird ass steroids, man), but now we just use it when we're talking about drugs. Used in a sentence, "We're gonna snort some slappers after school." Except no one should ever say that. Cause really? So gross.


People keep giving me weird looks at school and just around when I talk to them. I mean, it's not like we talk that differently. It's just a few words that, okay, maybe I use way more than I should, but what can I say? I'm pretty schway like that. But now you know. So no more weird questions when I say I'm slagging off 7th period.

My boots have teeth marks in them. And drool. My favorite boots.

Someone restrain the dogs or I am going to lock them outside. Or sell them.

I never signed up for this many people. I won't be someone I'm n

I cannot describe how much this is not okay.

I think I have a cracked rib

[ooc: as Cassandra]

This again. Nice to see you all again, I guess.

Oh come on. Letter from GCU in my hand. Accepted with a full scholarship to the IT program, which is like the best in the country, and I end up back here?

THIS ISN'T FUNNY, THANKS.

I still don't know why I'm here, but I guess I'll have to make the best of it. My name is Dana Tan, and I'm from Gotham City. It's- Well, it's something to be here, although I'm not entirely sure what.

Man, I give up. I think I have to go brown again. This bleach stuff hurts way too much, and I think it's killing my hair.

I'd pay good money to the first person who makes DNA Splicing and gene manipulation work in this decade. Except, the good kind of splicing. Not that weird animal stuff. It was quick, it was painless, it was relatively cheap, and it gave me pink hair until it started wearing off.

Bleach sucks.

( He's got a kryptonite ring in the Batcave )

So, there's a plane sitting on the roof of the hotel. No, really, there is. I know you can't see it, but it's cloaked. It's leaving ASAP, but I don't have the reflexes to pilot and I flat out refuse to let Terry fly it until all the Valium, Xanax, and everything else is completely out of his system. It also needs some body work.

And Terry, yeah, about him. The reason he's here is because he ran into some ridiculously strong dreg a warehouse in Santa Monica. The guy was killing people, apparently, and that's why I'm bringing it up. It wasn't the whole vampire/supernatural killing people thing, just like... a regular human killing people. A regular human killing people and shoving a bunch of sedatives into my best friend's neck. Xanax, Valium, Rohypnol, and Restoril. A few others too. It was like a cocktail thing. I'm taking care of him though. You know, with my non-existent doctoring skills.

But yeah, I thought that was worth bringing up. Dreg killing people in Santa Monica. We should... do something about that?

...

What just happened? Bruce? can you hear me? ... This isn't Gotham City anymore. This doesn't even look like..That isn't possible. So much for being back by six for dinner. If I wasn't in solitary before I'm gonna be now. This is so un-schway.

Effective immediately, everyone involved in Angel Investigations will be required to learn at least basic self defense. There will be twice-weekly training sessions in the gym in Krav Maga, taught by myself. This is a very basic, extremely effective method of self defense.

You're only excused from the lessons with clearance from me.

Further training will be optional, and made available as soon as I get some instructors. If anyone wants to offer their services for this, let me know.

( filtered to future!Hiro )

( filtered to Jack Landors )

( filtered to Davy Jones )

( filtered to Nathan Petrelli and Charlie Andrews )

By show of hands, who here is a geek. Don't be shy, step up to the plate.

I couldn't possibly have found a city darker than Gotham. No way.

Apparently binary counts as writing? 0s and 1s? I mean, I guess it's a language, but that's taking things too far. I couldn't speak, I couldn't code... man, did that get old quick. I never realised how much I take the sounds coming from other people's mouths for granted. And I'm going to stop underestimating the power of the supernatural now. Yeah.

That said all said? I am so behind where I thought I would be on the security system because of everything. This sucks.

On the bright side, I'm really glad they didn't end up killing us given that I like being alive so much, so, uh, thanks guys.

( images from the confused under the cut )

I come offering a once in a lifetime opportunity. This unique, never again opportunity includes a very nice gem surrounded by gold trimming and a stone tablet with a genuine blood stain. These two items were once in possession of some Aztec ruler, who believed that the gem was given to him by some god named Mextli who liked sacrifices and other godly things. I’m not sure what’s so special about the tablet, but come on, it has blood on it and that’s cool.

Because this gem is supposed to hold magical powers I will not be taking this sale lightly. I want a good deal and I won’t accept anything below ten thousand for it, although money isn’t the only thing you can offer me. Be creative.

I’m not prejudice about who takes these things off my hands either. You want Mextli’s magical jewelry, raise your hand. For a limited time only you will also receive the famous tablet and three teeth from a Tyrannosaurus.

Once it's gone it's gone. Forever.

Diana keeps calling me Oracle which is weird in itself, because the real Oracle is about ten times smarter and scarier than I am. Like, terrifying. Being compared to my idol is nice and all, but I'm not ever going to be as good as she is. I mean, I'm the girl who picked up a boom tube and got flung back in time. I'm not exactly front runner for genius of the year.

Also freaking me out? This whole telling the truth thing. I'm trying to code, but on my second monitor I've got this... I d'know, it's like a history lesson. It's all written out. I know I'm not supposed to tell anyone in the JL their futures, but I know it all.

This needs to fix itself.

[Filtered to Hyperion Residents]
I just want to put this out there and make sure everyone understands: Clowns aren't allowed in the building, okay? If you see a clown, let Peter know or something and don't talk to it. Talking to it only makes it more interested and we don't want it interested. That would be bad.

[Filtered to Diana]
The Joker's here.

[Private]
This is not good, I should not be this freaked out.

Wow, they really don't want you going to school around here. Which would normally be awesome, except this time I want to go to school. This is what I get for trying to do things the legal non-computer hacking way.

Anyone else need a social security number, while I'm at it? Believe me, I wish I was joking about that. My number like my academic transcripts, surprise surprise, doesn't exist yet, meaning that I don't exist, meaning that I can't drive, vote, drink, or finish high school. I can't believe it took me this long to realise that this might be a problem.

I figure I should introduce myself before people start asking who the random girl walking around here is.

Hey, I'm May Parker, and I'm fairly new to this city, and hotel, though I hear this is the best place to be. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the idea that I'm now living with people who are fictional characters in my world. No one is ever going to believe me if I ever get back home. Which is probably for the best, anyway.

I'm sure I'll eventually meet most of you. Until then, if anyone here can hold their own in a game of one-on-one basketball, I challenge you.

So...I guess I used to live here, I don't...really remember much, or anything actually. All I know is I'm here now and I don't really know what that means or who I am supposed to know or anything so yeah...

I miss video games. You know what would be cool? If I had a joystick that could move around all the people in the Luthor Mansion. Like my own personal video game. Then I could make them like... duel or something.

I don't know, it's a thought. What's this I hear about something called a Playstation 2? Anyone got one? Because there're some things on these camera that I really don't need to be watching, and my eyes are going to cross if I code anything else tonight. I don't want to go to an arcade... I'm pretty sure I owe some people there some money.

I've got a video feed into the Luthor Mansion.

Thought you guys would want to know.

So I wanna know what the FUCK has Smallville so busy that he can't look after his supposed best friend. How the HELL did he let her marry SATAN? I really wanna fucking know.

Hey, so...

The other day, I added a bunch of stuff to the system. I'm not done recoding everything... I kind of fell behind when I started adding this new thing. It's really cool. Jack gave it to me a few days back but I didn't want to say anything until I'd gotten it right and written the program to mount it.

Basically what we've got is a program that comes equipped with a holographic map of Los Angeles. It comes equipped with a search function that lets you search for anyone in the city with a criminal record (even people not from here, like from another dimension or whatever). You search, you click, and it tells you where that person is and say... if you wanted to find that person and they're moving? I can sit here and track them while you're out finding. Cool, right?

Well, I think so. It's really easy to use and seriously useful. I spent the evening watching the local news and tracking some of the people the cops are looking for. It really works.

I think Jack wanted to keep this on a needs to know basis, so, um.... you know what to do. But I figured it'd be useful, given everything that's going on.

To: mgibson@la-resident.org
From: dprince@la-resident.org
Re: Possible sighting of BM

( You have (1) unread email. )

If you hear alarms going off in the middle of the day, ignore them. Well, ignore the one that goes, "BREE BREE BREE". If the one that goes, "SCREEOO SCREEOO SCREEOO" goes off, then you're still going to want to run. Or do whatever it is you do here.

Man, my onomatopoeia skills rock, don't they? But, really, if you listen, that's the noise they make. But the point is, if you hear the 'BREE' one go off during the day, ignore it because it means I've just tripped over something (on the computer, not on the ground). But it'll go off about a minute later, because I should be able to shut it off.

Um, yeah, my name is Max. I'm the girl with the pink hair at the front desk, and I'll be recoding your security system for the next three weeks (well, I hope it's only three weeks...). Don't worry, you're all safe. I'm just... fixing it. Kind of. I mean, for the early twenty-first century, it's really not bad. It just needs some upgrading.

Anyway, I just wanted to warn everyone before I scare the hell out of someone.

My roots were showing and, apparently, here you have to dye your hair by hand. I think I got more on and in the sink than I actually did in my hair, and I'm pretty sure the hotel's cleaning staff is about ready to kill me. It's not my fault I don't have any cash to tip with! Paper money's kind of ridiculous.

I should probably try and get out of this room while they're still working on the sink. This much evil eye can not be good for the soul.

Don't suppose anyone's seen a good looking seventeen year old named Terry? Can't blame a girl for trying.

Man, this blows.

Woah. This thing is a Mac, and it's running on 2.6GHz. I feel like the world is running in slow motion. I mean, even the words appearing on the screen as I type them… they're coming up so slowly. I have no idea what's going on and I tried to find out, but I couldn't make the web browser move any faster. So I checked, and that's running at 54 Mbps. I'm pretty sure there're laws against the 'net running that slowly.

I've decided that I really don't like 2004 very much and I've been here less than twenty-four hours. I mean, come on now, there're wheels on the cars. Who does that anymore? I need to get back to Gotham City and I need to get back there yesterday.

I'm sorry, who uses Macs anymore? They were such a fad. And a bad one. This keyboard—

Right, I'm done. Does someone have a Boom Tube I can borrow? You can have it back in 19 years when I'm born. You're gonna have to come to New Jersey to get it though.

Help? I'm confused and my roots are growing out. Very un-shway.