All of this noise is getting annoying.

So very annoying.

Okay, so the implants are off. Which is great, yes, I'm really glad they're gone, but now I think we're stuck for a different reason.

My GPS keeps getting scrambled whenever I get close to leaving, and I end up going the wrong way every time. And the fog's not helping me navigate, either. It's really starting to get on my nerves... I hope someone ( Read more... )

Erm. I know that the explosives have been deactivated, which, of course, is wonderful news, nice to hear and all that...

... But is it just me or is anyone else still having difficulties actually leaving? That ridiculous fog seems to keep turning me around, at least. And that... really shouldn't happen.

Have I just lost all sense of direction ( Read more... )

[Though the phone turns on, for a moment there is silence. When he speaks, Neo's voice is cool, yet not quite as emotionless as the last time he spoke across the network. There's a note of satisfaction in his tone now, along with just a hint of weariness.]

It's done.

The implants have been deactivated.

You're all free.

[OOC Note: Yes, this ( Read more... )

[He's surrounded by stacks of books.]

Goodness me, it's been ages since I've actually had to set up shop....

But that's neither here nor there. Does anyone know of any good cafes in town? I'm at something of a loss.

I realize I may be going out on a limb by assuming that there are those within the city capable of observation and deductive reasoning, but I'm possessed of enough optimism to entertain the notion of such a possibility ( Read more... )

[A rather bright, poppy tune is playing faintly in the background. Seems like Travis has upgraded from cheap motels to somewhere with a decent stereo.]

So. Can we go home yet?

[He pauses for a moment, as if waiting for a reply, then continues.]

I have a cat. Cats don't feed themselves.

[This post is encrypted courtesy of one Ted S. Kord, and therefore is hackable to anyone that Ted's bothered to let in on his secretnerdstuff, as well.]

Everything hurts. Someone come get me.

[She takes a moment to send out the second one, a bit longer than she normally would.] You can scold me later.

[Somewhere out there, Clare's resting by herself. But more or less, she's talking to herself, if anything.]

This is my fault.

If any of you die, it's on my shoulders. I won't forgive myself should anything happen to you... Maybe that's why I couldn't do it.

[The tone of Trish's voice wavers between irritation and boredom, though it leans more toward the former. After all, bitching is a form of entertainment.]

Is the weather always like this here? Or are we just lucky?

I'm so sick of this fog. Like the city isn't dreary enough.

[She sighs.]Weatherman should be fired. Shake things up a bit. Maybe get ( Read more... )