[A. 850 Goldberg Street]

WHAT THE HELL IS THISSSSSSSSS?!

[Carefully feeling his way out of the covered front, he pushed his head out of the entrance, followed by the rest of his body, inching along with a mutter of 'Inching...'. Soon, he was out of the doghouse to stare at it. It had a nameplate of 'Momotaros' on the front and he exclaimed,] I AM NOT A DOG! I don't even like dogs.

Augh. Where am I anyhow? This is way too white. [Storming towards the back entrance of the house, he opened the door open.] OI! Ryoutarou?! Where are you? Bear?! Brat? Perverted Turtle? Anyone?!

YAY! Momotaros is awake! Come here boy, come here!

... I AM NOT A DOG!

[But too late, the drone kids had pounced on him and were treating him like the beloved family pet, much to his dismay when he was also given a food bowl with Momotaros scribbled on it, complete with water dish and dog food.]


[B. Anywhere in Town - Morning]

[Finally free of the kids, Momo had decided to take a walk. People were treating him like an animal! He wasn't an animal, he was an Imagin! But there was a lot of humans who were patting his head and going 'Who's a good boy?' and so on and so on. And none of them seemed to recognize that he was a walking, talking horned vaguely oni-like thing.]

Man this sucks. Where the hell am I or when the hell am I, how do I get back?

... Oh right, Den-Liner! This must be the past, so all I need to do is get on board!

[Checking the time in a store shop window where an old fashioned clock ticked off the time, he sauntered through the door at 9-9-9 -- and got shooed out by a shopkeep with a broom.]

Okay, okay, I'm going, I'm going! Ugh. [Feeling around his 'pockets' he frowned.] Huh, where's my Rider Pass?


[C. Diner]

[Figuring that the shooing was a fluke, Momotaros went to the nearest place that served coffee, and he plunked down what he figured was currency at that time at the counter.] One good coffee sir!

[Seconds later, Momotaros is bodily heaved from the door as he flew like a flying fish into the street.] No dogs allowed!

I AM NOT A DOG! How many times... eh?

Bark bark! [Oh look, drone dog. Momo did the only thing he could.]

GAHHHHHHHHH!


[D. Anywhere in Town - Evening]

[It was rapidly cooling that spring evening, and Momo was getting cold. Really cold. He was shivering as he tried to find his way back to Goldberg Street. Sneezing, he found a box nearby.]

... it's something. [And he picked it up to head across the way for a park. Time for the return of MomoHobo. Shelter, check. Now he needed fire.]

A: Out and about

[After recieving some rather unsettling news, Mara had needed some time to think. But she's never one to stay down and out for long, so the people of Mayfield can find her walking around town, taking everything in with sharp eyes. She may look like the average new arrival, other than the fact that she's also looking for someone.

Someone who would be much easier to find if she knew where he was staying...]

B: Various shops

[Shoppers, enjoy the sight of an increasingly angrier red-head arguing with the droids behind the counter.]

I just want to know where I can by some weapons. A gun. Anything!

[ A » Action; 918 Bilko Boulevard (Morning) ]

[ Jeez it felt like days since Marty last slept. He probably could get away with sleeping all the way until the afternoon but a part of him was pushing him to at least pry one eye open. The last thing he remembers was taking the DeLorean back home with the Doc but everything else is just one huge blur in his head. Chalk it up to getting your atoms scrambled on a near constant basis. Maybe that's what he needed, sleep it off a little more. That subconscious of his seems to have the right idea, it really does feel like he's sleeping on a full size mattress fit for two.

Yeah... just a few more minutes.

But as he shifts from beneath the comforters, something feels kind of off. His eyes finally flutter open that this...is definitely not his bed. Now that reality has caught his attention, his eyes are now wide open and shoots up from bed. ]

[ B » Action; Bilko Boulevard ]

[ Okay so Mayfield, right? Now he just needs to get a date on this place. The newspaper was able to tell him that much but the full year is scratched off. Great. Nineteen fifty-what? Every page he flips, the printed year appears to be nonexistent. Like something purposefully redacted it from the print. Nah, it can't be right. He just needs to get his hands on a better copy. If you're up and about enjoying your daily routine, don't be alarmed if there's a kid near your front yard, opening your trash bins for old newspapers. ]

[ C » Action; Downtown Area ]

[ Well... here we go again. You're probably one of the newer residents, maybe even a pro-Mayfield veteran. Who cares! Marty sure as hell can't tell. So whoever you are, there's a wild Marty from behind yelling-- ]

Excuse me!

[A. ☠ Action ☠ Locked to residence of 1332 Benny Rd.]
[The room she woke up in was clearly not her own. Not only was it a little bit too small to be hers, it wasn't even attached to an apartment. But nevertheless she still got dressed in the standard Mayfield fare and decided to make her way quietly down stairs to do some exploring and maybe get a bite to eat while she was at it.

Karuta seems a little uneasy and melancholy, but you wouldn't necessarily notice unless you take a really good long look at her.]

[B. ☠ Phone]
[A little while later, she decides to try the phone.]

Hello?

I really...don't think I should be here.

[Returning to Mayfield hadn't been something high on Lucifer's lists of priorities. It had, in fact, been a place he wasn't interested in revisiting at all. So he's less than thrilled to find himself waking up yet again in the bedroom of this place. Annoyed, yet again, to find himself forced into a house full of mindless automatons parading around in flesh. If he was lucky, Nyarlathotep would still at least be a drone. There was otherwise nothing else amusing about the situation.

Or he thought so, until he noticed the family photo for his household. And grins, if just a little.

Alright. There's something a little amusing about it.]

[Action - Locked to 1648 Albright Lane]

[Hello new family. Today you'll notice a young, quiet, grumpy blonde haired boy eating a breakfast of cereal and toast at the table in the kitchen. Nothing really off about the scene, unless you count the smoldering remnants of what had once been one of the dining room chairs thrown in the corner of the room.

Unless you're Cain. Hey Cain.

Someone's standing right above your bed, waiting for you to wake up. Just glaring at you.

Somehow this is your fault.]

[Phone]

[The voice of the little boy speaking over the phone is far more indignant than any child should manage. Not the whining tone of a young boy either but true, adult rage seems to manifest in his voice.]

I should hope being stuck in this place would dissuade anyone from considering the idea of eternal life as desirable. The only thing such an existence could lead too would be something like this: unmovable, silent stagnation. Things die because they need to die, because in the end change is a necessity and that change can only occur once the old has been swept away and the new is allowed to come in. To either build off what had been left behind, or to innovate and build something new entirely. If life was just a collection of all that had ever been and allowed for constant existence unending, old ideas would never become "old" ideas, would never give way to the new.

People fear death, but they seem to think death is a monster. That death is some kind of "ending" because they either refuse to or can't understand it's but another part of the cycle of life. That there is no "end", just links like in a chain looped again and again. You are born, you live, and you die. And it doesn't matter how old you are, or how powerful you are, or what you are. If you draw breath there will come a moment where you no longer do so. It's the ending of one state and the beginning of another and that's all it is. People seem to think there would be some freedom in escaping such a cycle, but to escape it...that is bondage. Freedom is experiencing the cycle, for even though all are caught in the cycle no one's experience in it will be the same as the other. There are boundaries to what your experience might be, this is true, but they are far fewer than you are lead to believe. The only thing that will ever be common, ever not be unique to you alone, is that you are alive and that necessitates death.

It is thought that with infinite time, with time standing still, that there is nothing that can't be accomplished. But in a place where that is the rule, such as here, what has been accomplished other than establishing an entirely stationary existence? Is that what you think of, when you desire to live forever? For it's the inevitable outcome.

This is a foolish place, built on foolish principles that's sole guiding factor is fear of living. The only thing stupider or more foolish then seeking to extend your own life to such an outrageous degree would be someone who thought that escape would be the death of all things. An idiot, capering idea that since all things die all things would be better off dead. Life seeks death, yes, but it does this not out of a sense of destruction as the above believes but out of fulfillment of the end of the life.

I am truly thankful to have been dragged back into this squalid, pointless hole. I certainly hope to demonstrate my thanks to our captor at an opportune time.

[Action - Olney's Tavern]

[If you're at Olney's Tavern today you'll notice there's a blonde man in his 30s at the bar today with small creature perched on his shoulder. It seems to chatter to him, giggling occasionally, in a small voice sometimes in English, other times in what sounds like gibberish. Many times he seems to ignore it, but he occasionally answers.

He's here for a pretty specific person. You damn well better be here still, Crowley.]

[ Action: 7134 Brooks Lane. ]

( Mentions of blood and scars. )

[ Action: Mayfield High. ]

[ Those who have Ambrosia for class (or are just wandering down the halls) can notice that she's covered in bandages pretty much head to toe. She knows that it's hard to dismiss that she's fine, but she's trying to keep a smile on her face. ]

M'kay, class. Today, all ye've gotta do is be on yer best behavior. Can ye do tha' fer me?

[ Hopefully today won't be that bad. ]

[ Action: Grocery Store. ]

[ Ambrosia can be found in the first aid section of the store, stockpiling on bandages galore, as well as antiseptic. Care to see why she needs so many rolls off gauze or why she looks mummified? ]

[Action A: 5719 Cunningham Lane]
[Someone had awoken that morning, in a very horrible mood. The first thing he wanted to do was to just simply take all his anger out on something. Anything. That nightstand would suffice for now. The poor household object was more or less picked up, and tossed at the wall.

Well then! Someone had a problem this morning.

... when he had collected his wits, he calmly dressed himself and headed downstairs. Don't talk to him, it's best not to.]


[Phone]

I DEMAND to know who's in charge!
[Well that was a nice way of asking.]


[Action B: Somewhere in the town...]
[He loathed this human form. He despised it. He outright hated it! ... and had quite a short temper at the moment. Be wary, he might strike out at you in anger... hopefully you're a good fighter!]

A: Olney's Tavern
[Having finally learned to use a phone, Cade has received an irritated message asking why he hasn't show up to work. Apparently he's a bartender?

He was only scheduled to work the afternoon shift today, and he discovers that Olney's Tavern is quite quiet at the moment. Still, maybe he'll get to know someone else who works at the Tavern, or maybe he'll get to serve some friendly new faces! (Ladies' drinks are half-off when Cade is serving!)

In the mean time, he'll just keep polishing the bar and the glasses and everything else until he can see his own reflection in every possible surface in the place.]


B: John Doe Park
[Cade found a (cheap) guitar in the attic of his home, so he might as well do something he is good at until he gets his weapons and magic back...

So, after work, Cade sets up in the park to play songs and tell stories to any who will listen.
...and if there aren't any, maybe he'll just amuse himself by playing music to raise his <i>own</i> spirits. (He'll play his world's version of "Whiskey You're the Devil" and similar songs til he gets requests otherwise.)

A ] ACTION | 952 Beulah Street | morning

[ This isn’t how Juliet wants to start her mornings. She prefers to wake up to the familiar sound of her alarm clock, and if he'd stayed the night, possibly snuggle up to Shawn for a few indulgent minutes longer before getting up and padding into the kitchen to make coffee. What Juliet doesn't want is to find herself in some strange house she's never seen before, with no memory of how she'd gotten here. This is the creepiest thing that has happened to her yet, and that's saying something. She has no idea who is responsible for this or how they had gotten to her, but she isn't going down without a fight. Muscles tense, she tries to stay as silent as possible as she moves slowly along the unfamiliar hallways. She's never wanted back-up more than this moment. ]


B ] PHONE | late morning | unfiltered

[ Okay, creepy. Really. Her initial shock and dread now somewhat abated, Juliet finds herself bemused and… well, creeped out. Come on, how often does something like this happen? How does something like this happen? It’s like that one weird X-Files episode she once saw, about the picture-perfect, Stepfordian community that housed some kind of man-eating monster in the sewers. Or was it in the dirt? Okay, maybe not quite like that. She doesn’t know about the monster part, but what she can see from the windows of the house seems to testify on behalf of the picture-perfect bit, at least. Maybe this is all just one big nightmare that she’ll wake up from any minute now? No more pizza for her after 7 PM, no matter what Shawn says. ]

So, I don’t suppose anyone here can tell me the way back to Santa Barbara? Anyone at all? It doesn't even have to be that specific, just somewhere in the southern California region would do. Or Miami, maybe? I owe the parents a visit, anyway.

[ She tries to go for light and breezy, but the attempt to sound unaffected falls a little flat towards the end - never mind the fact that she's totally rambling. Clearing her throat, Juliet steadies herself and speaks more firmly, like the professional that she is. ]

Or failing that, the local police station. There is one around here, right?

[ There’s a long pause before she speaks again, somewhat hesitant and a touch worried. Hey, it’s worth a shot. It’s not like the capricious psychic has never popped up unexpectedly in strange places before. ]

...Shawn? Any chance that you’re here, somewhere?