Musings

( Locked to S. Caulfield )

Is it normal for people to leave food on your doorstep here? This did not happen in Detroit.


[FILTER: J. CORVUS]
Do you have a girlf know where the two pies came from?

[OOC: Added after this.] Um, nevermind. Who's Cherrie?

It's been a damn week so you better not Still mad?

I can't sleep.

And I'm hallucinating.

That chair just moved by itself.

Invisible forces partying in my house. I'm going crazy. Great.

Does anyone want to come over and cook for hang out with me? I came home after practice to a post-it on the refrigerator. It looks like my roomie’s gonna be working late and I’m hungry as all fucking hell. There’s food and everything here so we can pig out in front of the TV or something you just have to make it, first. Food, television and Dottie, I promise it really doesn’t get much better than that!

PS. I am not above making sad faces at you all until someone agrees to come over!
[image of her pouting attached]

[backdated to earlier in the week]

[locked to q. gaines]

Hey. [...] Just figured I'd let you know I'm out of the hospital. God I'm so lame How're things with the boy from your past going?

[e-mail to wren via boymask g-mail account]

I'm all settled in with Thomas the Bat, but I haven't had a chance to actually talk to him yet. I met a [...] friend of his, though.

[locked to t. randall]

Hey. It's Luke. [...] I know you probably know this, but I'm out of the hospital now and I just wanted to say thanks again for everything.

[About 6 hours (give or take) after this]

Thanks

[Shortly after a deliveryman in an ornate mask delivers this to the EMS dispatch office. His voice is muffled because his chin is pressed right up against the phone, trying to get the words to her sooner. He is audibly stressed out.]

Start paying attention to your phone and call me back already, Randall. Okay? Right now.

I wonder if I’m the only one who has figured out that fear isn’t working out for anyone except the bad guys. Fear is a poison slipped in our drinks before our eyes, but we simply close them and take a sip. Don’t we?

When Seattle’s finest have finally locked up all the masks, when those who want to help are crowded in cells alongside those who really just want to blow us up – then will we be safe? Will the human world become a glorious Eden without the apple? Will the masks stop coming? Or will more come and take their place? And will the human race keep blowing each other up (or blowing us up) in the name of their holy texts and because of their political beliefs and – above all else – because of their fear?

So lock up your windows and doors, stay inside after dark. Sleep with your .22 under your pillow. Just don’t act so surprised when family members start shooting each other in some horrible plague of paranoia and tragically mistaken identities. And while your backs are turned, the dark masks are pulling closer, drawing the noose tighter. We have set them free to wreak havoc when our streets empty after sundown. Don’t think they won’t take advantage.

If no one minds, I’ll just turn on CNN when I want to be force-fed some terror.

A. Cassiel

So we've got a crazy night on the cards -- it full moon out there or something? You guys keep bringing us the ones who argue before they'll let us help em

[Posted at 5:39, the day of the Joker plot.]

Well, darlings, I have a bit of advice: If you've a car you don't care for, park it outside the bank on Occidental.

Ow. My face really fucking djioasd hurts.

Let's just assume that you've made a colossally bad decision, and you're suddenly here with no ID or job or credit rating or money or-

That you didn't exactly prepare to come here.

What, exactly, should I do? What'm I supposed to do?

Er, and hello, I guess.

Got to admit, sometime I get tired of all this gray cloud.

If you - general you, darlings - are an hour and a half late for work, the reason should never be that your bad hair day gave you a conniption.

And if that is the reason, then for god's sake make up something slightly less ridiculous and lie your about-to-be-unemployed little ass off.

When I came to this city five years ago, the realtor for my apartment all but sang the virtues of living in the "Emerald City." She called it safe. I realize that she was lying, as most sales people do, but in light of recent events, I wonder if she has changed that part of her pitch.

Can I buy you a coffee or tea? There's this amazing tea shop... if you like tea.

I want to offer you a job. I promise I'll be nicer about it than Byron.

[Shortly after this is on display]

Enough. If it's not children half-dead from terror left on our godddamn doorsteps, it's vigilantes dying and kids brought into our ER with people in masks alongside them. Enough with the cryptic paintings that no doubt glorify the whole spectacle further.

And can I just express my utter horror at aforementioned kids coming in, hurt, when if they stayed off the streets, stayed out of the clutches of adults who should damn well know better? If you're going to be gathering, for god's sake have some damn sense. Even the police don't go out without wearing kevlar.

[After these very public and sloppy shenanigans.]

Let's see, by my count we have...

A little nobody
Two little birds
A bat
A blot
A conflicted anon
And the original poster and his Kumbaya!

And then we have the civilians...

T Brandon- $
C Byron- $
T Randall

If someone doesn't string up one of the babies or the poor civilian before this little gathering, I will be sorely disappointed.

I'd like to request some assistance with a serious issue I'm struggling to deal with. If someone from the police or with connections to mental health facilities could get back to me, I would appreciate it.