PARABOLICAL GRAFFITI

Oh, bloody hell.

Nothing like being covered in blood and guts to make you wish for a vacation from what really should be a vacation. I'm stuck in Los Angeles, there is no way I should have this much to complain about.

[Filtered to Trance]
Be careful walking around in the front hallway. I think I lost control of the telekensis... stuff started exploding when I walked through the door and there was some glass mixed in there. I cleaned it up, but knowing me, there's probably still some left. I don't want you to hurt yourself.

Sorry I haven't been around the apartment much. I think I really do need a break.

[ooc: MJ, I'm assuming Sam sent her all the info he found?]

All that information...it can't...

...it can't be true.

It has to be a lie...

If I wanted good information on demons, devils, and the like.

If I wanted to find out if someone was one...

Where would I go?

This is so wrong.

Beyond sin.

What was I thinking?

[ooc: yes, the infamous morning after regret in the form of a blank entry!]

And that's why I hate Halloween.

I used to love Halloween. Now? I don't know, new jobs put things in perspective. People dressing up in costumes just makes it harder to find the real bad guys. Which, yeah... like my job needs to be any harder? Being stuck here is bad enough.

Okay, who's in charge of this Apocalypse solving thing? Like, if I talked to someone who maybe might have helped, who the hell am I supposed to talk to, because I am not figuring this out by myself. And I don't want to deal with it by myself either.

I offered this girl named Felicity one of the two spare rooms. Do you mind? It was kind of a spur of the moment good deed to counteract the fact that I work for the devil thing. She didn't freak out or anything when I told her you were pink, but I didn't mention that you're a demon. I was thinking maybe we should both downplay the amount of demons and devils in our lives since she's new here.

Luck of the vessel draw today? A wire hanger.

So I guess I'm looking for soul who looks like Joan Crawford? I mean, that's scary in and of itself, forget the whole escaped from hell thing.

Is it true that my sweet liddle puddin' pop is here?

I do so hope to get my, ah, little signal working soon. And then we'll see if the BAT comes out to play.

Why are people so mean?

You're a soul who escaped from Hell. I'm somehow supposed to catch you with a... I don't know, it kind of looks like a vibrator. I swear to God, if this thing is used I'm going to kill the Devil...

Where would you be hiding? Skeeved out sex shops are not my kind of place. Though, I guess it kind of makes sense for some guy who escaped from, you know, hell.

Maybe it's some kind of sex driven serial killer. Like Ted Bundy. That would be cool. I never get anyone famous. Leon Czolgosz really doesn't count since we'd never even heard of him.

I'm an angel. I have no interest in souls, in evil, or in good for that matter.

Quite frankly, the lot of you amuse me with the ridiculous things you do.



You figure out if I'm lying.

Trance? These car keys appeared in my pocket earlier and then, this was really weird, but I turned around and my car from back home was just sitting there parked behind me. There were instructions and an address on the dashboard and... well long story short, I've got an apartment now.

You should come by. It's at [address]. You're really hot, so if you wanted to stay, that would be cool. I figure I owe you for helping me the other night, anyway. That, and you're really hot.

I also feel bad for lying to you that night. My dad didn't die a week ago, I'm pretty sure he's still alive. I think he's my boss actually.

So yeah, you can stay with me, if you want. I really want you to.

Hey, you! Mister big shot devil guy. I've got a bone to pick with you.

I've got a soul trapped in a super soaker. Tell me you're going to do something about this?

Listen, I'm sorry I called you a loser, two-bit fallen angel with a Frank Sinatra complex and some half decent underground real estate. I'm really sorry.

Can I go home now? Joke's over. It was funny, really funny when I walked into my bathroom and ended up in the middle of the street in Los Angeles with a truck coming at me full speed. I laughed.

I'll never insult your love of Frank Sinatra again, just get me home so I'm not late for work.

And if you aren't behind this, then I'm pretty sure I'm screwed. This could be bad.