[Tulio's rescue had been quick. Unnatural quick. Much-too-easy quick. Like all things that are too easy there was a catch - He had no idea he had even been kidnapped in the first place. Then again, that was only the tip of the iceberg ( Read more... )

Tell me. What are your theories?

This can pertain to anything.

[The past few weeks have been trying for Will. It was only two days after he arrived at the academy when he came down with a ridiculous  case of the flu. Not used to being sick, he's been laid up in bed until recently, coming out of his recovery just in time to discover that Elizabeth's been taken. And that he wasn't called to her rescue ( Read more... )

We're all gonna die.

Fit the Sixth, in Which Gibbs Pines, but Only a Little. He Also Grievously Misuses a Funeral Urn.

[Anyone passing the greenhouses today might hear a rusty sailor's voice singing a melancholy tune. If you go inside to investigate, you will come upon Joshamee Gibbs arranging flowers in a rather funereal urn ( Read more... )

[The screen blips on to reveal a very worried-looking Arista]

Okay, seriously. Can you see me? I've been trying to call Quasimodo and Minister Frollo and Lottie and NOBODY is answering! Is it just me? Has anyone seen them? Is this broken?!

[The view begins to blur as she shakes the communicator.]

... they aren't answering their doors either.

[There's the sound of a lot of frustration (though thankfully, he keeps his language fairly clean) as John attempts to turn on the communicator device for the first time.] ...you'd think after crossing the world I could handle a box... [He taps on the screen once, which by now was showing his face to everyone else ( Read more... )

[The video flicks on to Danny looking horribly worried. At least he's figured out how to use the facebox, for the most part.]

How come we have cuwrfew now? I thought thewre was no wawr hewre...

[His eyes dart about, and he's listening carefully. He's worried about planes and bombs starting to come to the Academy.]

[Elizabeth Swann had her fingers in the sugar bowl.  Literally.

Perched atop her pointed toes, the woman confined to a 12-year-old body was quite desperately attempting to make herself tea.  Yet while she could reach the stove's dials, it would be dangerous for her to ballerina her way about, filling the pot with water and setting it to the heat to ( Read more... )

[Drake is running around like a madman on the quad, setting up what appears to be a large, magical garden. Large, fragrant rose bushes spring up from the grass with a flick of his wrist, quaint cobblestone paths grow up from the ground with a simple nod, and annoyingly cheery birds pop out of thin air without any sort of prompt ( Read more... )