[The rustling sound of someone turning over in bed with a sigh.]

Mmm, sweetheart come back to bed. The Pack can do without you for one night I'm sure...

Warren?

...This isn't my bed.


[ooc: It is his bed, he just doesn't recognize it. Yes, Kyle's back after his button-pressing and he was only home a few days, but while he was there he forgot about the City. Those memories aren't returning anytime soon.]

[There's a letter with Mercy's name on it taped to the refrigerator where she's sure to see it. Inside is a very short note written on the back of a postcard. The postcard says 'Wish You Were Here...' and a nice tropical beach photo. The note says...]

Mercy.

I pressed the button. I had to. I hate it here and I need to go home.

Sorry,

Kyle


[ooc: So Kyle gave in to his desire for home and pressed that thing. He'll be going home for the duration of the curse.]

...Well it looks like I won't be venturing outside for a while yet.  It's a good thing the kitchen and pantry are very well stocked.  Although if anyone wants to risk a bullet for the sake of bringing me fresh fruit, I wouldn't protest.

We had sex.  I don't want to talk about it.

...I hate this place.

[ooc:  Cursed (obviously) with The Elephant In the Corner.  He'll be compelled to talk about the last thing he wants to talk about.  Bother him at your own peril!]

I like beards but not on myself, personally.  A Brooks is always clean shaven, etc., etc.

Though it was rather hilarious to see ladies running around in full mane.  If this is October winding down, then I'm quite happy with it.  Hairy faces over cannibals every time.

It's getting colder out.  I'll have to hire someone to bring me firewood.  There doesn't happen to be some swarthy lumberjack types around to chop logs for me?  I pay well and fires in the fireplace are infinitely preferable to random fires on the street.  Speaking of which, is everyone all right after that absurdity the other day?

Niko, I need to speak with you about reducing my hours.

[See Kyle bending over a set of plans, hammer in hand, a nail between his lips.  He moves out of view for a few minutes and then there's the sound of wood being slotted together, then nailed in place.]

...I suppose that's good enough.  I'm not a handyman, lord knows.  Warren always was responsible for this kind of thing.

Maybe I should get Mercy to look at it.

[A duck waddles into view and Kyle shoos it out of the way, laughing.]

It's not ready yet, you--

[end transmission]

This seems to be a month for confessionals.  Pardon me for abstaining.  Anything extracted under duress is likely to be suspect anyway.

In much more important matters I'm in need of a new cashmere sweater.  There must be someone in this dismal City who is worthy of escorting me on a shopping trip.

I can't decide if this is better or worse than showing up to my ex's house warming party.  Certainly the drinks are better.  Dalton couldn't make a proper chocolate martini if his life depended on it.

From what others have told me, I just have to hang around until midnight at which point...I wake up?  By all counts it doesn't make sense.

[ooc:  Kyle was en-route to the party he would eventually meet Warren at when he got dropped in the City.  Action for anyone at Lux, voice and text for anyone else.]

All right, City.  Best ways to get down a mountain if you don't particularly want to use your legs and still want to be alive at the bottom.

Go.

( Filtered to the Deities//unhackable )

Why does absolutely everything in Lux seem to have rivets all of a sudden?  The decor was fine as it was, City.

Here's a question: if you do something good but for terrible reasons, is it still something good?

So I'm considering having a statue put in around the duck pond to spruce it up a bit. Free-standing, Italian marble. What do you think?

( Classical Art is NSFW! )

I know, something's missing.

He needs a hat.

When I was little, my sister Ally used to be in charge of putting me to bed.  One glass of water, one stuffed toy, one kiss, and one story.  We had a ritual and the story went last because I often fell asleep during it anyway.  Not that Ally was a bad storyteller, she was brilliant for a ten year old, actually.

I remember the fairy tales were always the scarier ones, back before the Fae came out and those stories were either wiped off the bookstore shelves or changed into even more child-friendly accounts than you could shake Mickey Mouse at.  We had a collection of the Brothers Grimm back then, very old.  I remember Ally reading Rumplestiltskin to me.  The bragging miller and his poor daughter, the greedy king, and the little man.  I don't really know why that story stuck out as more terrifying than the rest.  It wasn't that gruesome except for the threat to the queen's baby.  What did the man want the child for?  What was he going to do with it?  I'd always conjured visions of the most horrible things I could think of.  Eating it in a pie, perhaps.  Fresh baby stew.

I suppose what was the most frightening was that it was pure luck that she finally discovered his name.  A random messenger stumbling across the little man chanting about his exploits while dancing around a fire.  And then she had the gall to draw it out teasingly when she confronted the Fae, as if he didn't hold her child's life in his hands.  Hands that he could apparently rip himself in two with in his fury.

Then again, Rumplestiltskin committed the same sin as the miller when he sang his name out loud.  So maybe the story is about pride.

Or maybe it's about how we always give ourselves away.

So I could say I'm really happy to have met the people I've met here, and it would be true but rather obvious and if you don't already know I'm happy to have met you then you should probably pay a bit more attention.  I hardly waste copious amounts of time talking to people I don't like, after all.

I could say I'm happy about Ianto's recovery coming along, but "happy" isn't the word for that as much as "over the moon ecstatic" so that won't do either.

I'm truly grateful to Mercy, whose has born the brunt of my moping recently like a trooper and who I should probably make waffles for tomorrow morning as a thank-you.

And of course, what really made me happy was the curse before this, because of how it got both Ianto and Jack to physically demonstrate just how much I belong to them and they both can do really wonderful things with their t-

[deleted]

Right, that is quite enough of that, City.

So far this day has not been turning out well.  I hope you're feeling better at least, Mercy.

These were Gucci.  They're worth an entire paycheck.  I want them put back now and you can take these...whatever they are away.

The ledgers are on the ceiling.  Lux's ceiling.  I will buy whoever can get them down for me a drink. 

( filtered to the Doctor; unhackable )

( private//unhackable )

Judging from several reports today, I'm seriously reconsidering this Get Well planter basket.

And the salad bar.  Vegetable murderer indeed.

Judging from the Network, it seems like people are finding themselves isolated today.  I must admit, I had a moment of panic when I didn't hear anyone in the clinic but Ianto's still there so this curse isn't affecting me.

Although I suppose I might have to wait to pick up the books from Lux.

Mercy will want me to eat again.

For those of you who are alone today...does it help to have contact across the Network, knowing you can't really touch?  Or is it better to keep from it entirely?