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WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, ROADKILL ROOSTER. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 007.14.007.17 * ROADKILL ROOSTER has joined 007.14.007.17 <ASSMUNCH45> wat up gurl!!!!!!!!!!! <BANNED USER> SCREENED MESSAGE. UNSCREEN? Y/N -- B& MOTHAFUCKA <CREATURECOMFORTS> Are YOU interested in not having to worry about basic needs? Have we got the job for YOU. Click to read more... <SHOVEL_GUY>** hey heather are you getting weird ads for going to live with rich people too??

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hey, heather. it's ginko. rin says he told you about the fight

just thought i should let you know, i'm alright now.

[the morning of April 20th, Heather's apartment will be ding-dong-ditched. The perp is apparently VERY fast, because by the time the door is opened, they're loooong gone. Outside her apartment door is;

• One (1) potted plant, in bloom with beautiful purple-blue flowers with a sweet scent
• One (1) freshly dead squirrel, with a pretty bow tied around its neck
• One (1) typewritten note, reading "From: your Secret Admirer <3"

WHO COULD HAVE DONE SUCH A THING]

Edited 2015-04-20 04:40 (UTC)

heather were you out by the Royal Theater today?

hey heather i hadnt heard form u since the thing

r u ok?

Edited 2015-06-04 03:27 (UTC)

heather are you there this is super important nobody is dead or anything but i need to talk to you!!!

[So. That sucked.]

[Ed has been very noticeably absent from the Nest the past few days. The whole time the fog was around, in fact, which might be a hint as to just why he's gone. Whether Greed and Stocke said anything about their run-ins with the rampaging minotaur or where he went, it's pretty obvious when Ed hauls himself back into the bar that he's seen better days.]

[He comes home earlier in the morning, well before any customers would be around to see him. Covered in dirt, bruises, and blood staining the tatters left of his pants, he looks like hell. And he feels it too, trying not to think about how many people he must have hurt out there, just what he did during those blank spots in his memory. He casts a dull glance around when he steps in, then sighs and heads back into the living quarters. A shower, that's what he wants right now--a shower and to sleep until this whole world just stops existing.]

Edited 2015-09-14 00:10 (UTC)

[Never let it be said that Ed is capable of being mature for over 24 hours.]

[He's been bored. Or more accurately he's been desperate for distractions from his thoughts, recent memories still being raw and difficult to deal with. (Even if he had come back from the dead once before, it hadn't been the same. At least that had been relatively clean, the pain over and gone without more than a few shocked moments to process it.) Ed had been nosing around, wings and face still sore from his last attempt to learn how to fly properly, and found something delightfully creepy in one of the dumpsters. And then he remebered that skylight in Mason's room, and a horrible plan formed in his head.]

[Finding tape is simple enough and once the doll is secured in place at the corner of the window, all Ed has to do is linger around the third floor and wait. Hopefully he can keep his poker face in the meantime.]

Edited (OH MY GOD PHONE) 2015-10-29 21:19 (UTC)

[encouragingly 'obtains' a cool-looking mic for heather]

[and by cool-looking i actually mean look at these things]

hi. my name is rin

i was admiresolympus on the network but weve actually talked a couple times before. i was also secondplanet.

anyway my number is 460.83.702.93
sorry for being so secretive about this i just already got killed once or pissing of a god follower and i dont want to do it again

[She remembers Heather saying that she tries to steer clear of god stuff in one of her other posts, though. Hopefully that's still true, because Rin's decided to trust her with her true identity and network handle.]

Oh god. Oh god, he's fucked up. He's fucked up so bad, he can't ever face Ginko again how could this freaking happen--

Ed pacing around one of Dawn's numerous tunnels might not be such a weird thing, but the fact that he's anxious rather than annoyed is a pretty big change. The empty bottle of beer in his hand isn't unusual, either, and is probably the reason he's rambling as much as he is.

"Fucking Christ, what the hell am I supposed to do? He shouldn't be--I'm not supposed to feel like this! Why is he so fucking pretty, why did I have to fucking notice?! Of all the fuckin' people to want to--FUCK!"

If anyone is approaching, he sure as hell doesn't notice.

Scar had taken to wandering around the city in the evenings. There was only so much time he could spend in the wretched hotel room, and he had become significantly more alert at night as of late. He knew why, but he didn't spend much time thinking on it. There were things worst than the impending changes.

Dumpster diving was at the top of his thrilling list of hobbies. Scar was digging through the trash behind a restaurant, tonight. What he was looking for, he didn't really know.

His newly sharpened ears picked up... some kind of song outside. Animal-like, his head popped out of the lid of the dumpster to see what was going on.

heather are you busy?
i was wondering if you'd like to come to a dinner party with me!

[With Roland back hale and hearty and more bearish than ever, Bert's been more inclined to head off on his own in the evenings. He hates leaving the other man, but he's got things to do. People to see. Horrific new abilities to learn and master!]

[Alright, not all of them are horrific. Theoretically. Bert's wing membranes have been in for a week or more now, and he's barely got the grasp of using them. His first attempts in the stables, Roland laughing from a pile of hay below, had not gone well. Lots of falling on his face, lots of getting tangled in rafters.]

[Which is why he's in a back alley in Bavan, wearing nothing but a pair of denims cut off at the knees, clambering up onto dumpsters and fire escapes and attempting to launch himself into proper flight.]

[He's mostly just launching himself into piles of garbage and street with strings of creative curses.]

God damned rabid dog fucking dick rotted christ!

[There's dirt in his mouth! He pushes himself to a sitting position, his backward legs all akimbo, and glares at his treacherous wing arms.]

You're a woman from a modern, relatively standard world, aren't you?

[Lust is relatively certain, but she could be wrong. She doesn't know Heather very well.]</small

Edited 2018-03-05 02:51 (UTC)

br aaat

g rrab a coullpl e ofbag s from the bssment. weve gotsom busin ess to taek care of intown.

hhy hey fehtrers

theee town 's bnntalkin latlly. i gu ss acuple of folkks hrre arintrested in dooiin somthing as a gestur for what ttt hppnned. an oppeen doo r fesi tival or somhi like that. i'v ee been here a whi le bu t. ah

wht exctl is chrism a s nyway ?

[It's been a crummy couple of months, and Korra's been spending a lot of time around the hostel with busywork. But she's trying not to just be a depressed lump of fur.]

so hey, it's korra.

just wondering how you made out with all those pigs.

So...

Are we going to talk about what happened? At the museum?

hey

so i have a maybe weird question, if you've got a minute?

i mean not THAT weird...

Maurice took up space. That was just a fact. He was a big guy with a big personality, and now he was even bigger. A towering bright green beast of a horse man but that wasn't why he was inconveniencing nearly everybody at the tiny hole-in-the-wall that night.

No, that was because of the papers.

The army of empty mugs at his elbows couldn't hope to match the mountains of newspapers that were spilling off the edge of the bartop as Maurice feverishly rifled through them. They piled up where his hooves dangled above the floor and the server had tripped over them once already. They were stuck to his tail too and all the while he muttered incomprehensibly to himself.

Hey!!!! It's Maya!

How are you doing? Everything okay?

[How many words does it take to ask about The Whale Thing without actually mentioning The Whale Thing]

[ There's something for Heather, brought to her probably by one of her lackeys. It's a bottle of nice whiskey and a big old jar of horrible holiday glitter. There are reindeer sequins. It seems a werewolf sent it to her. ]

I trust these're in excellent hands, says the card.

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<ginko> (April 3-4-ish)

[ACTION sort of]

<shovelguy> BACKDATED TO MAY 8th ASS-O-CLOCK

<kurikara>

July 21st