There's a poster up, somewhere very noticeable. There's also a large envelope pinned underneath it.

Have a secret?
Here's your chance to get it out. Drop it off in here.
Total anonymity guaranteed. Unless you don't want it.

Typist: That's right! I figured it was DM's time to have a postsecret. So get to work! Comments are screened, so it's up to ( Read more... )

Roger is leaning against the railing, gazing on the ocean. He's been trying to write more songs, but nothing's coming out quite right. Normally, he'd go for chemical means of inspiration, but well, he's a role model of sorts now (and Collins is nowhere in sight for the moment).

He'll just have to settle for spending time in the fresh air.

There is a John Cohen hanging around the main room. In his case, 'hanging around' means sitting with a cup of coffee and a copy of Preston and Child's Relic. He looks almost relaxed for once, stretched out on a couch and sipping his coffee every so often. Feel free to bother him, he might even be nice.

It was just another day, really. He said his goodbyes to Alison in the morning, headed off to work in his Range Rover, and tried to call Mimi. He really hadn't heard from her since Angel's funeral, and while it wasn't entirely unsurprising to find Mimi had skipped off on him -- well, to be honest he was a little worried. He wanted to think that she ( Read more... )

The ballroom (because where else would those parties be held?) is lovingly decorated with black and orange crêpe paper, black and orange twinkle lights, pumpkin lanterns, hanging bats and skeletons, and all the tables are covered with black table clothes. On the tables with the black table clothes, there are all sorts of Halloween-y pastries and ( Read more... )

Who wants to help me with a Halloween costume?

Madonna with the gold cone bra and the leather miniskirt?
Streisand from Yentil?

A witch?

This would be the typist speaking. Hey there ( Read more... )

The man in the nice, well-tailored business suit with a large briefcase who has just come onboard doesn't even bother with the usual preliminaries of "where am I?", "how did I get here?", or, indeed, "hello". He's too busy talking on his cell phone to notice that he's onboard a cruise ship, apparently ( Read more... )

Roger is sprawled out on the deck, guitar in hand. There's a big cup of coffee on the table next to him, along with a notebook, covered with illegible writing. His pen's tucked behind his ear, in case inspiration should hit.

For now, he's content to play whatever comes to mind. Feel free to talk to him, he won't mind. He might even take

The first sign of the newest arrival to the ship is the sound of a nervous giggle, followed by a high, sweet voice calling out "Excuse me? Pardon me, I believe I've gotten separated from my -- from my husband ( Read more... )