War Is Coming Communications.

January 7th, 2012

War Is Coming Communications.

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January 7th, 2012

filtered to Stefan

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I don't get it.

Text to Kon

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Hey. Are you busy right now?

filtered against baddies

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Who is a gifted cat-sitter?

Elena
Looks like I'm going away for a while. You okay? All things considered, I mean.

Text to Damon

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✉ Did you see it? What Stefan said about why he went Ripper?

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Hey, cop-types? Say hello to the major hitters for two different allied gangs, and one major meth dealer from Topeka.

[Attached is a cameraphone picture of what used to be a little hole-in-the-wall bar. While still there, the walls, floor, and ceiling are scorched almost completely black. More concerning are the clearly-still-living people strewn about the floor, twelve of them all told. Many of them are sobbing and trying to claw through the wall to get away from the camera, or rather Danny, who is behind it. A few of them look catatonic, with looks of abject horror and grief frozen on their vacant faces. All of them look battered, bruised, and broken, though none look mortally wounded.]

Once they're able to string a coherent sentence together, I'd say a few hours in the worst case, they'll be begging to confess their crimes. Thought I'd give you a heads up.

You're welcome.

(OOC: Unfiltered because Danny is in the throes of a breakdown. They’ll start flooding in within the hour, but will be mostly incoherent for a few hours, then they'll have confessions from all of them, though only some will seem penitent and the rest will just be terrified. Even better, every single confession checks out. However, during the early stages where they're still incoherent, every single one of them will babble about the "reaper wreathed in flame" so, y'know, confession-editing may be necessary. >.> Several of them probably aren't going to be quite right again, though, their psyches too weak to handle the trauma of the Penance Stare.)

Text to Mel

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✉ I need you to do me a favor and get Damon Salvatore out to Bobby's.
✉ Please drink some vervain tea before you even meet him, just go with me on this. In fact if you have any way to carry some on your person, do that too.
✉  I will so epically owe you one.

filtered against baddies

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Captain keeps saying 'sad' when he looks at me. I can't tell if he's sad or if he thinks I'm sad.

Filtered Against Evil

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So I've heard that in this universe, reality, whatever it is, I'm a character on a TV show. Any ideas on where I can find this show to watch? I want to see the antics my future selves get into and use it against them if I need to.

filtered against death eaters and lucifer, I suppose.

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Right, so, it looks like I'm not gonna be going anywhere anytime soon. As mental as you lot come off, I've tried going back to places I know loads of times and I've still got nothing to show for it. That either means that I've gone mad too or, er, you're all telling the truth about this whole apocalypse...thing.

For those of you I've yet to chat up, I'm Ron Weasley. If I've gone insane and this entry means absolutely nothing to you, feel free to go ahead and carry on about your business. I can't help it if I'm a fucking madman, so have the decency to leave me to it, will you? Unless you're Harry or Hermione. Then I reckon you can come on down and knock some sanity back into my thick skull, yeah?

Otherwise, yeah. I'm Ron and I'm trapped here. Bloody brilliant, that is.

Except for the whole part where it's not.

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make beat prepare coat bake not explode why did it explode covered in eggs and milk and vanilla and sugar. that wasn't supposed to happen. the sky is heavy, loud with the cries of lost souls, broken minds and hearts. so much pain. more coming, darkness. it's cold.
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