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Down by the lake, Captain Hook is sitting out on the deck of his ship, watching the stars come down. "Nature at her prettiest, methinks."

Out on one of the porches, The Bunny has turned away from the spectacle, to continue working on his latest invention. It ticks ominously.

Somewhere int he forest, Sirius Black who completely missed the big sign, is staring upwards at a tree. This specific tree has his bike lodged rather high up in it, and his wand has quit working. Damn it.

And in the Lobby, Tim is staring at his hands in amazement and fear. He doesn't have any magic. None. He just assumed that whatever this was, he would be immune to it, but...

He pats down his coat pockets, trying to find something, anything magical that works. But there's not much in his pockets right now. Usually, they're much deeper. Tim finds himself unable to stand, slumping to the floor, muttering spells to himself in some vain hope that something will happen.

But there's nothing there.

Rogue felt like her head was about to explode. She'd been Here for a short while and already the days were starting to blend together. In a kinda scary way. And she'd met the woman who, in her world, was one of her biggest rivals. So she was doing what any sane woman would be doing in her situation- she was in the bar, getting slowly drunk. She was on her second bourbon and grudgingly impressed with how good it was.

Not that that's a reason ta stay here...

She really just wanted to go home, maybe beat up a few Sentinels. That always made her feel good.

Ah, screw it, Ah'm stuck here for now, might as well make the most of it.... Wonder if Belladonna's around for me ta smack around some...

That thought made her grin slightly as she downed her drink and ordered another.

Faith was in the Fitness Centre, seeing how far she could push her healed up body. Being a Slayer rocked, her broken ribs had healed up so much faster than a humans. But, like anyone else, she still needed some physio to get the muscles back to full working order and this was the first chance she'd had to really try some training.

After some cardio work she moved to the centre of the room, focusing on her breathing, before beginning on her Tai Chi routine, hoping to both stretch her body and calm her mind, which was still all over the place, for so many reasons. Never good. That way led to going crazy. So she was really hoping someone would come along to distract her some before her thoughts got too weird.

Who: Dawn, OTA
Where: The archery range
What: Passing time.

For some reason, even the thought that it as a supremely bad idea wasn't enough to keep Dawn from visiting the archery range. Of course, that probably had something to do with the idea that she didn't really give a damn. When it got cold, she'd do the smart thing and go back to her room, most likely making a pit stop somewhere that involved having a drink.

As it was now, she was content to work a bit on her aim, lifting the bow to the target and shooting. She was off by an inch or two and frowned. That hadn't happened since she was eighteen. It was probably because she wasn't completely one hundred percent. But she'd be damned if she let a bump on the head keep her in her room.

She took another arrow, placed it correctly and aimed, grinning when her second try hit dead center.

Harold is safe and resting and Amanda needed to clear her head so on came her swim suit and into the pool she went. Each stroke clean and with purpose propelling herself forward. Strake, stroke, stroke, breath, stroke...on and on she goes. The edge of the pool approaches, her arm goes over her head, chin tucked to her chest, legs flipping over her head landing neatly on the edge of the wall and off she pushes, staring at the ceilling for a breif moment before gliding onto her stomach for the streamline and back to swimming.

On and on she goes.

Who: Abby Sciuto - Open to All
Where: The Cemetery
When: A few days after the funeral service.
Rating: PG (dealing with Death and everything...)

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

- Emily Dickinson, American Poet, 1830 - 1886

Abby Sciuto sits in the Cemetery of Here, a small candle in a bowl in the snow in front of her. It isn't quite dark out yet, but the candle gives her some focus. She sits on a small, plastic mat she found in the fitness centre, her black cloak wrapped around her, black gloves on, black hair down for a change. She is thinking about Life and Death and Change, and wondering what she's going to do tomorrow.

She's listening some jazz on her iPod - which was in her pocket when she was brought Here - and thought it fitting. The dead might like the music and, of course, where she grew up, that was how you sent them to their final resting place. She's listening on her ear buds, but hopes that, somehow, they are listening, too.

Who? Jamie and OTA
What? Drinking
When? After the Funeral Ceremony
Rating? NC-17
Where? In one of the places that sell alcohol. Jamie isn't picky...

He was tired, and achy, and feeling like shit, and he wanted nothing more than to drink enough to forget for awhile. People had died, people he did not know well, but people, nonetheless. And he had been next to useless during the explosion aftermath, even with his powers.

Now, after the funeral, he was tired and weary inside and out, and looking for a temporary fix. One of the places with an open bar caught his sight and he bee-lined for it. Within, he was not too long about starting to drink, his mind swimming with images he wished he could forget.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. God, this had been a fucked up week! With concentration fully on the booze and on trying to block out bad memories, he was not looking for attention or company.

Sirius had a rather disturbing conversation on his way out of the disaster. It was, well, quite frankly it devestating. Along the way, he had managed to get his arm wrapped up, and set in a sling, but that didn't bother him at all. The News of the future, that made him-

Sirius is slumped in the snow, staring at the burning Residence, his eyes blank. He flicks his wand out, hoping against hope that the bottles survived. "Accio Booze!:"

Wonder of wonder, a good dozen bottles come sailing out of the destruction, to land in a clump in the snow before him. "Right then." He takes the first bottle that comes to hand, pops the top, and takes a deep swig.

Then he pours a small amount on a spot of snow to his left. "For James." A shot into the ground before him. "For Remus." He hesitates, and finally pours a smaller amount to his right. "For Peter too, you backstabber." And then he raises it in toast. "And for me, cause I won't be there either." He starts to chug.

By this point the kid had gotten Luna into a safer portion of the Residence. She was shivering having only her wand and some of her things(all personal items that can't be replaced). Silvery eyes watched for Ginny and Hagrid, even that new Black fellow. Beyond the dust in her blonde hair and retrashed arm she was otherwise fine but inside matters were worse, she was reliving what happened with the Death Eaters all those months prior.

Anyone could see how hard she was trying to keep from shaking by this point.

Hop, hop, hop.

The Bunny eyes the empty lobby again, just to make sure it is still empty. If anyone sees him doing this, he's in big trouble. But sometimes, well, all the time really, he just has to follow his programming.

Which is telling him, someone has to pay.

So it is that he's carrying a small object, just about the size of an easter egg. Actually, it's painted to look like one too. But with some advanced knowledge, and future technology, the Bunny has created something quite powerful.

"Happy Birthday, buddy." With a quick two hops, he slams the egg into the delivery shoot and hits the button with both feet. After a smooth landing, his beady red eyes stare upwards, waiting for a rush of fire down the tube to tell him he's the new Manager of this place.

BOOM!

As pieces of the residence begin to fall down around his head, he can say but one thing.

"Oops."

((OOC:This is it boys and girls, the big badda boom! Enjoy yourselves.))