How's my driving? IP logging off, anonymous enabled, comments screened, lay it on me.

[Private to Anders]

So, uh, it looks like I'm your warden. We should meet somewhere. What do you think? [This is totally not awkward at all given that the last time they talked she was a nine-year-old looking for her Legos.]

[/Private]

[Public]So, a bunch of gifts just randomly appeared in my room this morning. Thanks. Judging by the number of ( Read more... )

[Miss Ariadne is hard at work, with wood scraps and little jars of paint and bits of fabric and a glue gun and everything.

She's tucked away in her cozy cottage, making little doll houses and other small toys.]

I could use one or two people willing to help me make deliveries, if anyone is available.

[OOC: Ariadne is a cheery little Christmas ( Read more... )

[Yes, Barge, Ariadne has been asleep. And she is just now waking up. To a wonderful note from Summer, saying goodbye. And scanning the Network, she's just utterly confused.]

I can see why people hate it when this happens.

[A few minutes later:]

Has anyone seen Arthur around?

Didn't someone very wise once say, "the road to hell is paved with good intentions"?

Just thought I'd throw that out there.

[Open spam!]

[Ariadne is back in the CES today, resuming her experiments with environment manipulation that were so rudely interrupted by Poison Ivy last week.]

[She looks annoyed, more than anything else.] Did someone do this on purpose, or is it just another one of those "shit happens" kind of things?

((OOC: please no post-canon Cobbs; otherwise have at it!))

Hey, instead of complaining about being bored, why don't we do something fun and relaxing?

Karaoke night, anyone? Surely Summer and I aren't the only ones who enjoy making fools of ourselves?

[And Ariadne is at the pub if anyone wants to join her for spam and karaoke!]

[The audio flips on, obviously accidental. It's probably in Ariadne's pocket, given the amount of fabric rustling one can hear. Her voice is muffled a bit, too.]

Mal? [She sounds terrified, her breathing getting shallow, more rustling as she backs away hastily.] What - No, nononono, don't - ! [The audio cuts out.]

( Spam for Arthur (warning for description of gore/suicide) )

[Ariadne is looking very cheerful as she wanders the vintage book stalls along the Seine as evening falls. She's also wearing a brand-new, ridiculously expensive, scarf. Because she can. She is in her element.]

I love Paris. I was living here for almost two years before I came to the Barge - going to school. It's the best city in the world ( Read more... )

[The video clicks on at a skewed angle - Ariadne obviously set it down on a table or something. All anyone can see are two pairs of legs, sitting on a slick, modern sofa in Arthur's cabin. Ariadne's jeans, worn and wrinkled, her feet bare. And, of course, Arthur's immaculately-tailored suit pants, his feet in expensive shoes. They're clearly ( Read more... )