November 2015




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Oct. 25th, 2015


[Halloween Deliveries]

[On Sunday, parcels are delivered to hotel residents. Wrapped in black and orange, some are big, some are small. They are delivered to work and home, to mailboxes and post offices. They come special delivery from the hotel, and none of the parcels belong to the recipient. There are no cards, no names, nothing but a note on the journal explaining the rules of this particular trick or treat.]

Oct. 23rd, 2015



[To Pepper, Faol, Penny, Bruce, Selina, and Bucky. Separately, of course.]

No card. )

Oct. 14th, 2015


Bucky B

["Delivery," James B]

[After this, the original of that cold war photograph everyone keeps talking about is left in his tent. It's reported missing, but there's nothing leading back to who appropriated it, and rumor lays the blame at the door of the murderer. But, there it is, on his makeshift bed, and another burner number is written on the back, phone untraceable, script familiar and undisguised.]

Oct. 7th, 2015


locked to peggy c.

[Locked to Peggy C]
You don't know me, but I'm supposed to give you something.

[And after this.]
[Locked to Gwen S]
Tell me you got out of there.

Oct. 5th, 2015


Bucky B

["Delivery," James Barnes]

[Left in the tent he's been calling home. No note. Not so much as a red hair left behind. Don't worry, James, HYDRA knows your size, but they don't leave local store labels. Have fun tracking.]


Delivery: Stephanie B

[It takes a moment of contemplation - more than it usually does for anything else - before Destiny leaves something for Stephanie in her apartment. There's a bag of dog treats (for Flounder, who looks no worse for not having her around as someone still took care of him) and a plant of fresh catnip for Bandit. For her, only a postcard stuck to her refrigerator. The only writing on the back is the date of their night there, but it remains unsigned - he doesn't think it needs it. Everything else in the apartment remains untouched.]

Oct. 3rd, 2015


Delivery: Ronan X

[In celebration of the happy news, and after taking af ew days to find the right glass and supplies she needs, a little something is hand crafted for Ronan and delivered in a plain, white box. A little note inside (amidst a flurry of tissue paper) reads only From Elya and in small print Keep this one!]

Sep. 25th, 2015


Delivery: Clementine M

[It comes to the FDNY in Hell's Kitchen, wrapped all neat and tidy in white paper with her name on the front, printed out from a computer. It's delivered by a private courier, no return address and no name given to identify the sender, but the courier? It's different than the last gift that was sent.

The gift is different too. A couple of cold packs are in there, generic gel things that could be bought at any drug store on any block, still holding onto the cold to protect the contents therein. And there, nestled between those packs, a small tupperware container. Opened, one might start to wonder if it was a piece of meat inside. But further examination shows so much more horror.

A tongue.


Neatly severed at the base and larger than one might have thought.

It's fresh, only a couple of hours since it was severed from its host, and examination will show that its owner was still very much alive at the time of removal.

There's no note, no fingerprints to speak of other than that of the courier.

Another cold trail it seems.]

Sep. 24th, 2015


Delivery and some messages

Delivery to Luke H )

[Locked to Luke H]

You have a gift waiting for you in the locker. Max has not returned.

[Locked to Dean W]

[Since he was exceedingly helpful and useful while making her transactions, she leaves directions for him to the Penny Dreadful(s) door and the Mariner's Inn. It's not much, but she knows that having somewhere safe to stay can never be under estimated.]


Sylvie M, Declan M

[Call to Sylvie M]
[Early evening, while sitting in her bus and waiting on the next call. She ain't got a real reason for reaching out, and it sure ain't melancholy or anything even some like that. She's being sisterly, she reckons, clear over in Queens for no good reason. Ring.]

[Delivered to Declan M]
[Perfectly tailored to his measurements, even down to the shoes.]

Sep. 23rd, 2015


Delivery: Caliban

[A letter finds its way to Caliban, though it is clearly addressed to one Mr. John Clare. The penmanship is strained, that of a woman who does not write often.]

Dear Mr. Clare,

I pray this missive finds you in good health. Please forgive any lack of communication that you may have experienced on my part. The accident has left my mind with gaps that I seem unable to fill. I was informed by my dear cousin that you were my intended. Try as I may, the memories of our time together fail to return.

Can you tell me any more of our acquaintance? How did we meet? How long have we known one another? What interests do we share?

I hope we can continue our friendship.

~Lily Frankenstein

Sep. 19th, 2015


Deliveries left for Mikey C and Clementine M; Text to Wren H

[Left for Clementine M - at the Fire House]

Homemade Coffee and Vanilla Soap Scubs With a note: Hope you enjoy this one! First batch from the new apartment kitchen - ought to use it for something! Thanks again for all your help! - Evie

[Left for Mikey C - at the Fire House]

Manly Beer Soap and a little something extra just because - Homemade Aftershave too. And a note: I'd tell you I'd bottled pirate smell, but that sounded less appealing once I thought about it for a minute. Thanks for all your help, matey. Arrrgh. - Evie

[Text to to Wren H]

Image 1 and Image 2.

We're making progress! I got creative. And a big discount on fabric and the landlady gave me a bunch of rugs.

I made you some more conditioner.

Sep. 9th, 2015


Delivery: Cerise S

[Wednesday morning, a package finds itself delivered to Cerise Stone, in care of the Homicide Division of the NYPD. Delivered by a private courier, the package holds no return address or markings of any kind to show where it might have originated. A small white box, approximately the size of a post card and only two inches deep. Inside the box is a fluid-filled plastic bag, and the tiniest bit of investigation will find that there are two human eyes floating in the liquid. Recently removed, an unremarkable shade of brown for the iris. There is no note, nothing else in the box other than the plastic bag. If swept for fingerprints, nothing will be found inside, and on the outside, the only ones found belong to that of the courier.]

Aug. 31st, 2015


Clementine M

[They come via the hotel. Prettily gilted and engraved with the name Clementine and guest. There's no accompanying note, no post-script. Just the date, a week hence.]

Aug. 5th, 2015


Delivery: Meredith J

[Mercy has never been his strong suit, but one spider knows another. The neatly wrapped in brown paper and twine book is left addressed to her at front desk of the hotel.

Tucked between the cover and the front page is a simple note:

Do you realise the truth of your situation?

Do you want to win or do you want to change?

Your little anon friend.

Aug. 3rd, 2015


Delivery: Marta F

[Hammers can be used both to create and destroy and today, evidence of the former is delivered. The heavy oak cradle isn't wrapped, no big red bow, no paper to tear off it, but it does stand sturdy and still on four post, knot work engraved legs with tall enough bars on every side save the head to indicate that it can convert into a crib when Bean is old enough. The headboard itself is a flat piece, with a knot work scene of the giant serpent Jörmungandr encircling Midgard. Inside is full of plush padding and another fur of course, but this waterproof one is for Bean and not Marta, as it's only large enough to wrap a babe in. Babies are messy. The top right horizontal bar displays a single carved thurisaz.

For Marta, there are two bottles inside, given to him by a woods-witch. One is small, and labeled only 'Salve' in his distinct, angular script. The second is labeled 'Lotion' and appears golden-white.

No note, but... Does he really need one?]


Louis D, & Aubrey R, Meredith J, Wren H, Delivery: Neil D, ETA: Neil D

[Locked to Louis D]
I would like to request your address. Somehow I still dk if the hotel will like, send you shit, if I just put your name on it.

[Locked to Aubrey R]
Girl, where do you even live these days?

[Locked to Meredith J]
So, I saw your public post. You and Neil are on a break or something? Also, hi, I'm Lin.

[Locked to Wren H]
Sup, bb?

[Delivery to Neil D]
[Sent to Neil's penthouse at the Venetian. Boxed up like it's from eBay, which, it is—is a beautiful, antique, classic lamp. There's no indication of who it's from outside of the seller. Packing peanuts, the lamp, and a hand-written thank-you note from the eBay shop. You're welcome, Neil.]

ETA: [Locked to Neil D]
Girl, holla @ me.

Aug. 2nd, 2015


Mina M

[Delivery to Mina M]

[The box comes on Sunday, slender and long and wrapped in an elegant lavender paper tied off with a yellow ribbon. Inside, a ribbon the color of the summer sun, satiny and smooth. A notecard rests just beneath the ribbon, folded in half, and written on the inside in green ink, a small note:]

To replace the one that I took.


Ben S

[Delivery: Ben S]

[Left on Ben's side of the bed, carefully wrapped in white tissue: a framed and matted print of a photograph taken when his family visited post-Valentine's wish. Parents, siblings, and Ben and Ronan in the middle of them all. Tucked into one corner is a white card printed with painstakingly neat handwriting:

happy anniversary,
- r

Jul. 29th, 2015


Nigma and Graves: A barrel full of monkeys

[It isn't so much a delivery as a thing that appears one afternoon, hanging from the ceiling (via a string of paperclips and tape) in the kitchen of Nigma and Graves. A piece of cardboard has been stapled to within an inch of it's life into a barrel shape and hanging, via paper clips, are people made of what looks to be scrap paper and colored pen. There's a person-monkey for everyone that works at the shop: Eddie (green nerd), Emily (black and white goth chick), Donna (cute geeky chick) and one for himself (serious business scary tall man). Someone's feeling comfortable enough to be a little playful.]

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