[Pixie's sitting on her bed with a pirate hat on, and grinning like a little mad thing.]

So.

Did everyone else totally get to keep all the awesome clothes that were in their closet?!

Best reality shift ever.

[When the feed clicks on, Josh Foley can be seen holding the camera out and away from himself. He’s looking over his shoulder every few seconds as he exits the Baxter Building in a rush. It should also be of note that his skin is most definitely a dark metallic black rather than its usual shiny gold]

I’m back. I’m back here again and…I don’t—what’s the deal with the creepy showers? Is anyone out there still? Um, Laurie? Please say that you’re still here, too.

[He’s quiet for a moment as he glances over his shoulder again and then back to the camera, trying not to look panicked. Just keep your cool, Foley]

If someone can hear me just hurry up and speak up. It’s freezing out here and I need to find this Bins place, apparently.

[When the video starts it shows two shadowy figures sleeping in a bed together. The room is decorated in creamy colors with ornate moldings on the walls and religious paintings displayed in decorated gold frames that are almost gaudy enough to be tasteless.

Dean is kind of surprised to wake up in a really comfortable bed. The couch at his place in Seattle wasn't exactly luxurious and the beds provided to the imports in the living areas weren't exactly anything to brag about. Perhaps the most concerning though is the fact that Dean doesn't even remember going to sleep. Actually. Forget that. The most concerning thing is the weight on the bed next to him that says he's not alone. He shifts slowly to face the other person, praying that they're still asleep and that - if he's lucky - it's a hot chick. It kind of sucks that he has no freaking clue how he got here though. And he hadn't even been drinking, had he? Oh. Wait. He had. But not that much right?

He kind of wants to reach to the nightstand for a beer that he knows won't be waiting for him here. But he keeps turning… only to find himself staring into a pair of unblinking blue eyes that are attached to one angel.]

Holy shit!

[His first instinct is to scramble away and he ends up crashing to the floor, tangled in a pile of blankets. The phone is knocked down during this and anybody watching has a close up shot of the carpet before the feed ends.]

[OOC: Tags will come from both Dean and Cas.]

[Dean didn't realize that the phone was recording when he set it on the hood of the car he'd been driving. He's resting his palms on the hood and his face is lowered, casting his face into shadow.

Several moments pass before he raises his head slightly and realizes that the freaking phone's recording. He sighs, runs a hand over his face, and puts on his best "nothing bothers me and I'm fine" face. Of course the phone would be recording. There's no point in asking for Sam or Cas. They're both gone. And he's not sure he wants to deal with either right at this moment.

He picks up the phone.] Hey. Does anybody here have the freaking date?

And John? If you're still around, give me a ring, would you?

[ It comes on with a clatter, the fumbling of the inexperienced, and when he speaks it has the blaring quality of one much too close to the mic. ]

I seek someone.

[ A pause, and he lets his erstwhile greeting hang as is, the silence left to stretch out long and to a near-painful level of awkward before he tries again. Propriety and matters were not the priority here. ]

This cellular phone has functions and... operations that I am not yet familiar with, and that I profess having very little experience in relation to.

[ That would have to suffice. He pauses again, only a beat. ]

I have questions.

[The video opens up on Rogue who's wearing a Santa hat and smiling.]

Alrighty, Ah gotta know, y'all.

Say yah came upon some idiots tryin' to steal a whole buncha electronics from a store and yah stopped 'em. Would you hang them up by their clothes in front of the store, decked out in Christmas lights, and then call the cops on 'em, or just tie 'em up with rope and call the cops?


[The video swerves to show three young men, roped together with Christmas lights (that are hooked up and blinking), and scowling at the phone.]

Ah think it makes them look more cheery.

Happy Holidays, y'all.

[The video cuts on to a girl staring intently at the screen, face flecked with something dark and dirty—it’s hard to tell what it is from the shadowed lighting as she holds the PDA away from her—as if she does not care to clean herself up. She does not.] This is another future. Not the only one. I must return to mine.

[She pauses for a moment, eyes shifting away as if in debate with herself and then she returns them to the screen.] Are there X-men here? Respond. [another pause, brief] Agent Morales. If you are here, respond.

[She shifts and the video moves, just enough to see her shoulders leading down to her arms…or arm. A bloody stump close to the shoulder blade represents where her other should be, but she doesn’t appear to acknowledge it.] Location: Manhattan, New York. Status: Still functional. Regeneration: 3 hours. Requesting someone with surgical experience to for a bone transplant.

[There is a shaky view of an alley next to the New Mutants Real World home before Amara comes into view. She is breathing a bit heavily and looks disheveled, clothes rumpled, and a post-it of someone's number on it stuck to to the back of her jeans. Not her usual put together self.]

Apparently this ridiculous show is much more popular than I anticipated. I went to the store to get a few things and was ambushed by fans. On one hand, it's nice that more people like us-- or like to hate us, I suppose-- but on the other, I was enjoying the little bit of anonymity we had lately.

[Mostly. Her tattoo is on her wrist and she usually covers it up. Finally, seeing that she isn't being chased anymore, Amara walks towards their house. You can see underwear-- Dani's and Sally's more specifically-- hanging outside the home. Revenge for putting her own underwear back on that stupid statue. She doesn't even address it.]

Has anyone else experienced this reaction from people? Maybe the holiday season is making them more... accepting. Or crazy.

[The feed turns on and- oh will you look at that? You get Julian's face gracing your network. Who's 'Julian', you ask? Why that's the young man that doesn't look all that happy to be here.]

-e you kidding me?! Seattle? How did I end- [He growls and runs a hand through his back. Alright, no crying over split milk he guesses. First things first.]

Alright, so: I'm Julian. Or Hellion, whichever works. Last thing I remember were some claws from that crazy but hot chick across me and then I woke up here. So.

Anybody care to explain? I kinda need somebody to fill me in. Wait -this is working, isn't it? They told me it'd work.

[A beat as he pokes the pad. He frowns and keeps talking.]

And if there's any of the new X-men in here please contact me. Where the hell are you guys? If this is some side-effect from Pixie's spell I swear...

[A soft growl and the feed cuts, waiting (and hoping) for answers.]

[OOC: Kind of placeholder! Will reply to tags asap I promise :(]

[Jan and Lorna are on what looks like a TV talk show set. It's 2:00 am and they are totally drinking wine from water bottles, relaxing, and having a grand old time.]

Welcome to the first ever Health Happy Hour with Dr. Pym and Dr. Dane.

The subtitle of the show is: Mutant Sex Machinery

The censors are going to have fun with this. Anyway, phone in here and ask your most private and embarrassing questions on health, sex, love... pretty much anything.



[OOC: Red is Jan, green is Lorna :D Comment here with your called in "questions". Feel free to make up fake aliases and "My friend has this problem..." scenarios. Let the hideous commence.]