[ A MASS BROADCAST is sent out to every single phone in Mandalus, regardless if the owner is asleep or otherwise preoccupied. Since when has the System cared about inconveniencing the city occupants? ]

Honored Guests. While you are most certainly used to my brother addressing all of you for what is to come to the city, it is my turn to relay this message. Simply because he is indisposed at the moment. We all know how his little episodes are when the eve of change is near.

That being said, I suggest that all of you find somewhere comfortable to stay within the next hour. Whatever it is that my brother saw is going to hit all of you very soon. Prepare yourselves.

I hate being so cryptic. Perhaps if I had a hood like him it would serve this message better. [ The Entity merely shrugs. ]

You could not pull off a hood, Entity, you have no face for it. [ Badum-tshh! But Praenuntius moves towards his sibling and rests a hand on Entity's shoulder. ] I've recovered from my "episode" enough to explain that the city is to change. Expand, perhaps. I know not exact details. The barriers widen.

[ Then a song fills the air through the phones. In some way, the "Honored Guests" can hear it even without the aid of their given communication devices. It is melodic - almost like a lullaby. The Entity and Praenuntius share a nervous glance. ]

"Lollay, lollay, little child
Why wepestou so sore
Nedes mostou wepe
It was iyarked thee yore
Ever to lib in sorrow
And sich and mourne evere
As thine eldren did er this
Whil hi alives were

Lollay, lollay little child
Child, lollay, lullow
You have come into
An alien world ."


(( NOTE: As of this post, the game has officially closed down on LiveJournal! You are more than welcome to comment to one another or talk to the NPCs on this post! Tomorrow we will be posting another NPC post on the InsaneJournal community to kick start the game there! Everything shall be explained soon. Thank you for staying with us during this move. ))

[Private audio message to Elizabeth]

I just thought I should let you know, because you probably already do, that I took some of the things I left from Hatfield already. But if there is anything that I've forgotten, then I've got a place that you can send things on to. If you wanted to. You don't have to. I mean, it'd be nice.

[He's rambling, he knows it. He had the first part practised but then it all seemed to fall apart]

I'm opening a sweet shop. At some point. I've bought it. Got to get it ready. Not that you care. I mean, there's other things for you do to be doing. But I thought you should know. So you can send my stuff. Yeah.

[And then he cuts the feed]

[The phone comes on to a shaky feed and it's clear whoever is recording this isn't the main focus of the broadcast. Instead, it tilts up to show a man covered in blood and filth and wounds. He holds a strange weapon and it's obvious that Dean is wary, alert, and more than prepared to shoot or stab someone if they get in his way.

He's gathered quite the crowd around him, though a lot of people are screaming about the weapon and others seem to be recording this too.]

Where are we?! Is this Mandalus? [He points the blade to a middle-aged man nearby and the poor man panics, shuffling backwards.] Answer me!

[The man answers and Dean lowers the weapon only just so, turning and looking around the station with a vicious glare. In a few quick motions he snatches someone's duffel bag out of their hand, grabs the phone recording it all, shoves the cameraman down for a distraction, and runs for the door, heading out before anyone can so much as grab hold of him, the footage ending as he clenches his hand around the phone.]

Remember when you told me to tell you right away when things started to get worse.

[have a very, very tired looking Winchester, Castiel]

They're worse.

I'll be closing the Roadhouse for about a week, guys.

[She had planned on just cutting hours, but she couldn't get Lycus on the phone and he was off the list. He was gone too, but she didn't know if that was permanent or temporary. Either way, with Castiel needing her help with Sam and Gabriel, she needed to close for a bit.]

If you need me, call or text. Otherwise, I'm sure I'll see ya all in a few.

[Short and to the point, but what else did she need to say? Nothing. Wait-]

...Take care of yourselves.

( [Locked to Mary Margaret Blanchard & Ruby Lucas]Collapse )

Since I believe some of you have forgotten about a previous offer of mine, perhaps it's best to restate it. Especially to those who are new here in this world. [ Mr. Gold turns the phone ever so slightly to look at the pawn shop. ] Several items from your worlds have been appearing in my shop as of late. If you have any interest in reclaiming them, then I do suggest you stop by. Otherwise I'm not entirely certain what may become of them. I can only preserve your valuables for so long.

[ Or does he actually plan to get rid of them? To keep them? It's very hard to discern. His mind is occupied with something else at the moment, even if he is rather tired of seeing some of these items in his shop that don't belong to his world. ]

And as it is the new year to most of us, no doubt that this city will have something happen soon. It's the way these things happen. As I'm sure many of you know. [ He smiles crookedly. ] I'd prepare myself if I was all of you. Just in case.


(( ooc: Mr. Gold is referring to this small ongoing plot! IF you have items already waiting for you, then please feel free to drop an action thread down and come get them! :3 ))

[the network gets a good shot of a frantic Sam Winchester, bundled up and outside in the junkyard behind Singer Salvage. There is a puppy barking somewhere in the distance]

Okay, guys I know I'm not supposed to be outside but I woke up this morning and Dean was gone and he um... this was left in his room.

[he's clutching Dean's necklace in one hand]

I need help. I need someone to help me find him. He was just here yesterday and I um, he can't have just disappeared like that. So if you have some time to help me search, just let me know. And if you see him, tell him to answer his goddamn phone already.

[The feed comes on and there's a lovely view of the sky from where the god is standing on the top of a tree. With the snap of his fingers, there's a few green and gold firework like explosions in the air that spell out "Happy New Year." Once those fade from the sky, Loki hopped from the tree, jumping onto a few branches before he landed on the ground. Well. Someone is back to his usual, spry self.

Loki smiles at the camera, charming and peaceful. Nothing at all like many of his previous posts. The god is content and has no need to be horrible and cause real trouble.]

Greetings all. Just a holiday greeting from me to you. Enjoy your year.

( Private Feed to TeddyCollapse )

Another New Year. I did not think I would see many more new New Years.

[Private to Gene]

So. Are you busy tonight?

[The angel appears as he usually does - wait is that a new tie? It might be. It might also be silver. Thank you, Elizabeth. Still, everything is as it should be - trenchcoat, black suit, messy hair with at least two day's worth of stubble on the angel's chin. The blue eyes do seem more intent today - probably just the tie though.]

[The angel himself has his normal expression of calm stoicism, although he does swallow once as he looks into the camera of the phone. He is sitting outside in his park, on his bench, snow piled up all around him. Some of it is drifting into his dark hair.]

Good day, Mandalus. I suppose this would be be in the nature of an advertisement, and a public announcement. Many of you already know me - some may not know that I also run a business, running messages across the city. It ... does not have a name, so if you can think of one I would appreciate the assistance. However, I am also thinking about branching out into baked goods, if there would be such an interest in that. So ... there is that.

[He clears his throat.] I would also like to announce that after speaking with one of the religious leaders of the city, I have some idea where we might need to start to defend against the Serpent. I will need to speak with those who are technologically advanced - and those well versed in lore. Dean, Sam, Jo, Gabriel ... you know most of these battles, so I will need to speak to you of what I have found.

[He tapped his fingers.] The last matter I wish to speak of is my birthday. It is forthcoming. I am thinking of having a small celebration, but I would like to know who would like attend first, so I might pick a venue. For those not versed with angelic lore, I was technically born on the first Thursday of each New Year. By my own planet's calendar, that day is quickly approaching. I want to celebrate it, per human custom. [Of course, he doesn't understand that birthday parties are usually thrown by the friends of the person having the birthday - but what do you expect?] I will cook, as well.

[The angel paused, looking thoughtful, before he nodded.] Yes. That is all.

[And the feed abruptly ends.]

[It's not quite a Christmas message from the Queen... but all the same, there's Elizabeth, sitting at her desk, look exceedingly tired. It might be a festive season but she's got far too much on her mind. Still, she's a woman whose dealt with far worse, faced war and persecution and her own execution -- what is a few family problems?

Her hand goes to the jewels that hang around her neck, not hers. Her mothers, given to Anne by her father as a courting gift. The cross was cool against her skin as she closed her fingers around it, taking comfort in its weight.]

I should all hope that you've all enjoyed your festivities, as I have. Winter is made to make us appreciate the warmth of others, I think. My thanks for the gifts I received, they're treasured. As I hope you enjoy mine in kind.

( filtered away from Anne Boleyn;Collapse )

[Snap, crackle, pop. It sounds like a spine's being readjusted, the grinding of bones falling back into place. Then a sigh - long winded and exaggerated. Two foot falls follow and they're crisp, cut -]

[ - sharp. ] Well, that wasn't very nice.

[Feed picks up a curved boot heel - one that seems to rocket right up and cut the dark. It rises and falls, picks up a slow beat and the owner? Hums low in his throat.] Eh-

[From crooked boots to a crooked smile, the recording catches more of the newly-arrived guest. Hair that spikes at points, eyes hidden under a pair of dark-round shades. Fur-cuffed leather vest that fans out and spirals around a thick throat.]

[And teeth. Horribly and terribly sharp; sliced-cut that could be akin to a shark's. They snap together, line in a nice row that pulls at a pair of lips.] Should I even know where this is on a map?

[But there's no one to answer in the dark. Wherever the man - creature - is, he's in a place with little light. Maybe a flicker here or there of some faulty wiring from above. But that doesn't seem to bother him the slightest. Instead, he moves to stand - pushes a butt of a heel into the back of his skull and cricks it to the left, then the right.]

Ha-! Well, I'll say this much - I'm certainly surprised.

[But now, he's staring down at the feed. Least, it seems so. Hard to gauge with those black panes of glass making sockets out of his eyes. He quirks a brow right up - a gesture that could have been innocent had his smile had less of a Cheshire's flavor to it.] - oh? Now, what's all this about?

[Lift of the recording and the man places a hand to his chest. Let's his fingers crawl up, hook into a collar bone. And a sliver of lighting catches in his shades; sends them stark silver.]

A recording huh? Well - if you just tuned in, the name's Greed. [He dips low - incredibly low. Bends over the curve of his hips and brings his shoulders up as he mock-bows and gestures with a swing of his other arm.]

- And I'd like to be your friend.