[Coyolxauhqui sounds like she's spitting something out. She coughs away from the communicator for a minute, then takes a deep breath.]

Rivers of blood. [Another cough.] Mountains that crash together. Wind that cuts like knives. Jaguars that devour the hearts of men. Dog-men and weary souls.

And Mictlantecuhtli.

[She pauses, almost like she's ( Read more... )

[Coyolxauhqui's turned on the camera, but it almost looks accidental at first because of how long it focuses on her feet. Finally she speaks, but her voice doesn't get raised above a whisper:]

I can hear blue....it's so loud! It's...now I can taste it. It tastes cold.

[There's a giggle and the camera swings around and focuses on...Martha Jones. ( Read more... )

[Coyolxauhqui's propped up the camera on a pile of cloth, giving the Barge a nice shot of the center of her cabin. The divinity is sat on the floor by the small pool of water, looking like her old self, save for the fact that her earlobes look like they've been not-so-neatly sliced in half with a pointy rock ( Read more... )

For those who gave me gifts, I thank you. They were unexpected, but receiving them brought me much pleasure. One offeri...gift in particular has been my favorite, but I am grateful for all that has been given to me ( Read more... )

[Good afternoon, Barge! La Calavera Catrina, the very elegant skull, gives a cheery wave to the camera. She's been leaving Mexican marigolds everywhere she wanders, singing and dancing and generally being a festive, enthusiastic, party-going dead person ( Read more... )