[A | Malt Shop; Early Afternoon

There seems to be something of a commotion at the Malt Shop today! What could it be? Hm, looks like there's quite a crowd of drone kids taking up space, fresh out of school and clustered around the counter. Rather, around a specific person....

.....Well now, here's a face that hasn't been seen much lately. Or at all, really, outside of school and briefly around the neighborhood. Yet here Mami is now, seated primly at the counter and eating pie as if this was just a normal day. And for a Popular Kid, it sort of is - those types tended to attract admirers among the drones. This bunch seems bent on buying Mami milkshakes, even though there's still a certain nip in the air despite the snow having vanished.]

Oh my, another one? Really, you're all far too generous....

[Mami deflects several more offers in this way, although it doesn't seem to discourage the drones. She seems....happier, somehow, despite the obnoxious and vapid attention being heaped on her. Oh, there's still that calm little smile, the polite gaze, the body language that speaks only of composed restraint. But the quiet, heavy melancholy of the last few months seems to have vanished, all the same.]

[B | John Doe Park; Late Afternoon and Evening

You know, it's hard being a magical girl.

Contracts and choices, hope and despair, wishes intertwined with suffering. Standing up to monsters like a hero....yet existing alone. Living in a world where idealism is ill-fitting and compassion proves a fatal flaw, a world that cares little whether you live or die - and if, when you die, well, that should be the end of it. There should at least be the mercy of oblivion. No more loneliness, an end to misery, the struggle against fear and disappointment now blissfully meaningless. But this is Mayfield, and Mayfield will have none of that.

Coming to terms with one's death.....well, Mami still hasn't quite managed it yet. But what she is, is tired. Tired of feeling no reason to live or hope again - aimless, helpless. So this morning was faced with the grim decision to use the Post Office to regain some power, any power. Yet what Mami ending up paying was not body parts or blood, but memories: she no longer remembers her death, or the Witch Charlotte, or why the last few months have been such an unhappy blur.

She can be found either taping carefully hand-drawn targets to trees (the town would never sell her any real ones, being both a girl and a child) or plugging away at the aforementioned targets with her muskets. Yes, she's transformed for the latter - and no, she no longer really cares about being seen. Mami has to keep her battle instincts sharp somehow, so for today, secrecy takes a backseat.

It's quite possible to notice how she's racking up bull's eyes.]

[Action A: 457 Stone, backdated to 3/3, locked to housemates and neighbors]

[Gohan had been taking part in his morning routine of training, and then spending time around the house with any of his family who might be around, or chatting with some of the non-drone neighbors.]

I think that today is going to be a really good day. It's beautiful out here.

[Action B: Around Mayfield, Backdated to 3/3]

[Thanks to the machinations of the band candy, as well as reality manipulation by miss Haruhi, there is currently an energetic young Saiyan running around the streets of Mayfield. He's probably around looking for his close friends, though he'll also be willing to talk to just about anyone.]

Wow! [He laughs and just looks up at the sky.] This place can really be amazing sometimes. Don't you think so?

[Action C: Around Mayfield, Backdated to 3/4]

[A rather...embarassed Gohan will be seen looking around for anyone that he annoyed yesterday when he was under the effects of both the band candy and the reality control powers of Haruhi. He was...slightly exhuberant that day.]

Uh...about yesterday.

(Through reading and asking just about everypony she could, Twilight has learned that, with little surprise, Mayfield has no Winter Wrap-Up. The closest to it is spring cleaning, which she's interpreting as the same thing, but to an obsessive compulsive pony like her...)

People wait a full year to thoroughly clean and organize their homes? That's just unethical! Impractical! Unhygienic! That's not going to happen in this house!

Action: 1247 Williams; Open to all

(Anyone in the house will easily be able to spot Twilight running about as she cleans and organizes every inch of the house to her specifications. This means she'll be rearranging books, pictures, furniture and everything else she can move. Unfortunately, a lack of magic means she's having a rough time doing so, which anypony can see and most likely hear, not just housemates! If you peek through the windows, you'll see this lavender pony cleaning and probably making a mess of things at the same time. You'll also be able to hear her causing a commotion because let's face it, Twilight's too accustomed to using magic for this sort of thing. The windows and doors are open in case anyone wants to drop by and complain about the ruckus.)

Phone

Holding a phone with hooves isn't exactly the most comfortable experience in the world, but after a moment of shuffling and movement, she's managed to get a decent enough hold on it! Even if it's more like propping the phone on something so it doesn't fall.)

I think I'm getting used to doing things without magic, but it's not easy with so many things inaccessible to those without hands or the ability to grip something. I'd love to continue my science and magic experiments, but thanks to Mayfield, I can't even manage that. It's one thing to try and force people to live together in a mysterious and ominous place like this, but to deny them the opportunity of proper learning and acceptable learning material? It's like this place wants me to go insane! I can only read about cooking dinner for the family so many times before I have to wonder how badly they want our brain cells to drop into the single digits...

1. [457 Stone Street]

[This was not his home. This was NOT HIS HOME. Where was he? And where was his HAT? Perry was displeased as he waddled out of the dog house of the Doofenshmirtzes. Nosing the flap of the door dog open, he waddled around, looking for something, any sign of his beloved family.

Wait. That picture.

Risking a moment, he stood up and bounded to the mantle, and picked up the picture.

What was this? That person wasn't Phineas, that girl wasn't Ferb, that wasn't Linda Flynn-Fletcher, and THAT CERTAINLY WAS NOT LAWRENCE FLYNN-FLETCHER!

... but at least Doof was familiar.

In an instant, he was back down on the floor and let out his duck-like noise. Time to get fed.]


2. [Around Town.]

[Perry was sneaking around town, getting the lay of the land. Any humans he saw he sneaked on by. Or he played the dumb animal route as he wandered past them. Stupid humans, why were they calling him a dog? That wasn't right. He wasn't Agent D.

He's looking into shops, trying to find a fedora his size, but after the fifth drone chased him out with a broom, he has been reduced to skulking around.]

Krrrrrrrt.