Musings

[Posted roughly 24 hours after the fog began.]

Are you happy?

To the Angel I encountered during the party.

I do not feel I can apologise enough. I hope you are well and that our encounter left no lasting anguish.

My apologies, over and over.
Robin

Traveler in search of Your Grace
for an intimate, private dinner at
Vino's Italian Restaurant. The special,
one-night only event is "Dining in the
Dark," a play on senses. Selected for
its anonymity, the Traveler hopes that
Your Grace will join him on Saturday
evening for reservations at 8:30pm.
If unable, please respond here and it is
assured that no ill feelings will be had.

[When the snow stops, it stops almost all at once, ending in the space of about ten minutes in the evening. By the next morning the temperature is finally climbing again, and by the end of the day there are rivers of snowmelt running down the city's streets. It doesn't start up again - this time, it's gone for good.]

locked to spider anon

I gave my word, and I followed through on it.

[After this post hits the forums, donations start being made to local charities. The first day, five of them receive $100,000 a piece. After that first day, a new one every day receives $50,000. All the donations are anonymous.]

Shouldn't the rich give to the poor? Why should the few have so much, when the many have so little?

[Friday night and most of the day Saturday, the snow stops without warning. The temperature begins to warm by the middle of the day on Saturday, and the snow begins to melt. Things seem to be going back to normal until evening, when the snow starts up again, first in fits and spurts, then in earnest. But the brief respite has given the city enough rest time to clear most of it away while the rest melts on its own, so while the temperature drops again and the snow continues, the 16 hours without snow keep the power lines from going down or the roads from becoming overly dangerous.]

I need a motive? That's not how science works.

Glad to see Spider-Man left with all his limbs, though. He's going to need them next time.

I'm looking for the one they call Fawkes.

[Wednesday is a cool and cloudy day from the start, but it gets a little cooler as the day goes on. Residents of the city begin pulling out warmer coats, but it seems like just your average freak cold snap until late in the afternoon.

Clouds have been gathering all day, but they suddenly wrap together, darken, and intensify. The only comparable phenomenon is the flooding rain of a month or so before, but this time, when the rain comes, it brings with it an intense flash of serious, dangerous weather phenomena. The temperature drops by tens, and within five minutes it has gone from fifty degrees to fifteen. The rain, already coming down in sheets, begin to freeze, first into slush, then into thick, large hail that is slung around by high speed winds.

Planes are grounded, children are huddled home from school. An hour later the worst of the high winds and hail seem to have died down, but it continues to snow, a localized blizzard hovering over the city and refusing to move.]

[ooc: The snowstorm will continue for a few days, until the person responsible has been apprehended. During that period there will be short bouts of more dangerous weather like the high winds from before, but mostly just a steady stream of snow falling steadier during some periods than others. It is normal enough weather for January, but in late May it is bizarre, freakish, and cannot be explained, particularly because it doesn't immediately fade away.]

I think I've asked before, but who knows if things have changed.

No chance anyone here knows how to... limit abilities? I keep getting into trouble with it. Yeah, I know, I should just learn to deal with it, but the repercussions are scaring me.

[Public]
I'm a reporter with the Seattle Times, and I'm looking to interview the new, theatrical white Mask. You wouldn't be so dramatic if you didn't want attention, so here's your chance. Come out, come out, wherever you are.

Dream?

[delivered to G. Dailey on Friday morning to her apartment. An elegant orchid, no note attached.]

Does Seattle know only of bad dreams?

[Posted late Saturday evening.]

Is anyone else missing days? I know it's a long shot, but it's better than the alternative.

Your Grace
I have been thinking
Pondering over what was said
During that darkened meeting.

Your Grace
I thought of you today
Your words, your claims
And perhaps, Your Grace,
You might have been wrong.

Your Grace
I am not as good of a man
As you dared to claim
Perhaps, one day, I shall meet
Those expectations.

Your Grace
Excuse these clumsy words
My lack of elegance
My cowardice in hiding behind a mask.

Your Grace
I do hope you are well today.
Yours,
The Traveler

[After the rain has slackened off on Saturday.]

Do not threaten the masks again, and a flood will not be necessary.

[The fliers go up on Thursday.]

( Fliers )

[Delivered by courier to Relinquary during business hours, with E. Pride written over it by the courier's hand.]

Inside the thick manila envelope is information on the very best state of the art security. Things like alarm systems, reinforced doors and window frames, new window panes made of bullet proof glass, inside latches for everything. There's an estimate as well, for a two bedroom apartment in Bathos [he had them scope out his own apartment] and piece of paper with a bank routing number that holds enough money to get everything done and a little extra. It's in Isobel's name, and there's no way to trace it back to who it's really coming from.