I was watching a movie, I got up to get a soda, and now I've been lost for an hour. Let's weigh the pros and cons.

Pros:
I still have my soda.

Cons:
I probably missed the end of the movie.
I'm lost in my own fucking kitchen. (Which is really just a hypothesis. I'm not sure where I am, but it's tile-y and there's a dishwasher, so I'm going to say kitchen.)

I'll come up with more, later. I might have the free time.

For now? Um. Help? S.O.S.?

Good morning, late night City dwellers.

I know this kind of happens a lot, I think it's a curse, but bear with me. I can't sleep and I'm bored.

Truth or Dare?

Well, that was a great day for anybody who ever owned a Game Boy. I should have taken Old Lace out for a nice lunch, but home-duty calls.

I don't know who all Nico knew here, but she's gone now. I checked the creepy hall-o-pictures, too, to make sure. Not like she'd vanish without a good reason, and being ousted out is a pretty good reason, so it makes sense. Molly's picture was still there, too. The City going to be a little less goth-y now. Sigh.

But seriously, Boss... Be seeing you.

I wonder... I guess I'll be kicked out of here eventually, too. I don't guess anybody sticks around forever.

-- the fuck outta here, old man! You think I'm joking, here!? Fuck you!

Not so big without your shitty watch, right? Without your fucking monster friends and apocalypse crew behind you... You should've stayed dead. I'll take care of that for you, asshole.

[After a metallic scraping and a quick clicking, there's a rushing sound of flames being expelled from the fistigons. Dude means business. After the noise stops, there's Chase's heavy breathing.]

I don't-- How're you still..? Shit. Shit!

Just leave me alone.

[The rushing sound is accompanied by a frustrated shout.]

HOUSTON!

The Runaways' first beach cookout of the season is officially a go. I've got the hot-dogs, tofu-dogs, patties and black-bean-burgers all set and ready to go. Portable grills are god's work, man.

So who's down? I'm going to try to scrape up a game of beach volleyball, so hey, the more the merrier. We do have a cookout bouncer in the form of a pointy-toothed dinosaur, so over-inflated adults should approach at their own risk. BYOB and all that crap.

I'm thinking today's a Fistigons kind of day.

If I burn all of the flags, does that make me the winner? The boss? The big kahuna?

Let's find out.

Great. I can't even fib about using the last of Karolina's shampoo. I was out. Now she is, too. My bad.

So what is it? A curse that only allows you to tell the truth? That compels you to tell the truth, maybe? So I could just broadcast something like: Why yes, City, it's true what they say about Jewish girls. (If you know what I mean.)

... Yeah. Definitely compelled. Crap.

Well, that was fun. Nothing like stumbling your way to the fuse box only to discover that it's not a fuse, it's a city-wide, supernatural blackout. If that wasn't bad enough, Old Lace was uneasy about something all day. Weird stuff.

I guess meeting vampires, aliens, and soul-eating giants doesn't rule out the creepy factor when the lights go out, huh girl? We're going to assume you're just being a little paranoid.

Also? Is a few consistant days of good weather and no natural disasters too much to ask for? No? Anybody around here dig lacrosse?

Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is Chase Stein coming at you live from the City square, right smack dab in the middle of a peaceful protest. It's all part of the whole sticking-it-the-man thing that's been going on lately, organized by the snarky and voluptuous Gert Yorkes.

Dislike the manipulation made possible through the curses? Looking for a proactive way to make your voice heard? Come on down and show your support by showing your disapproval!

I'm to remind the public that the protest is completely non-violent. Think Martin Luther Jr. and Ghandi. It's also BYOB, second 'b' as in 'banner.' But if you wanna provide the keg, man, I am not gonna complain.

Just look for the sparkly hippie-chick, and you know you've found us. Hope to see you there.

[[ooc: For Gert's protest~ H-he wanted to be an announcer, okay? >>]]

I don't know whether this is luck or not, to turn up somewhere like this. Magic? Trans-Dimensional travel? Who the hell knows. I'm never going to have my fat head around this shit.

Everything's on the Network. Everything's computers. That's going to make it easy.

The rumors are that this place, maybe it's the world and maybe it's all worlds, is going to end. You guys have no idea.

But maybe the world really is shit, anyway. Maybe there's just you living while you're alive and fuck everybody else. Maybe they really are scum, and maybe I just got lucky. I don't fucking know. I don't.

Either way, I have some beat-up old legacy to attend to. It's all they ever gave me, after all. Can we move it along?

( ooc; )

Okay. Let me get this straight.

This is some wacko pocket-dimension City, outside of time, with no emergency exits or contact with anyone else, where people are just pulled in from everywhere, and the whole damn place is half-run by some blogging Network?

Yeah, got it. Sounds fun. Not to mention I got this pretty sweet, mad-advanced walkie-talkie out of the deal. And my dead girlfriend, but that's

It's great how I can recite exactly what's going on, and it still seems pretty unreal. But maybe the masses will just tell me it takes some getting used to.

I guess I need to make a to-do list. Number one, I've got to find a job. I missed the damn cut-off age, and I have to help all these lovely ladies with food and the rent. Problem, though: You're looking at a Runaway, high-school drop-out. But whatever.

So, hi. I'm Chase.