Sixth Temptation ♆ Every Time a Bell Rings [dictated/action]

[putuporshutup]

The night before

[When Meg departs the scene of James Bond's murder, she spends the night checking the places she could think of to find the douchebag that blew him up. Everyone seems to want him in custody and she's got more than enough juice to pull that off, so hey. No skin off her ass. Unsurprisingly, he's not lurking around any of the usual places she knows to look, but she had expected him to be laying low. It might take some time, but she'll find him.]

Filtered away from Silva and anyone else who would warn him:

Listen up. I need to have a little chat with Silva about what happened to James, so if you hear anything about his whereabouts, be a doll and let me know, kay? Oh, and do it privately, would ya? Can't have him scampering off before I get a word with him.

[Nope. Not threatening at all, Meg. So subtle.]

The morning of the 30th, in the Lobby

[Sometime before dawn, she has the pleasure of watching the castle transform as Halloween decor appears everywhere. When she looks down, she's dressed in exactly the costume she'd planned. Not too shabby, Wonderfuck! The long, silvery white embroidered gown is a bit of a change of pace for her, but it completes the look with the fluffy feathered wings and glistening halo beautifully. Her usual messy waves are smoothed into perfect ringlet curls. A cursory peek down her bodice and a quick lift of her skirt confirms that Paradisa had even gotten the memo about her other plans, with the corset and garter and white thigh highs underneath... just in case. She smirks and twirls around, laughing as the full skirt flares out and the feathers flutter. Perfect.]

Later that day...

[By midday, Meg is decidedly less than thrilled with her costume. It's ridiculous. Not practical in the least, a pathetically limited caricature of her true form which she is extremely confused about at the moment. She attempts to rip off the gown and wings and halo and when all that fails, at the very least, she tries to extract the sinfully tacky lingerie and absurd shimmery silver heels from underneath. No such luck. The simple, classy grey pantsuit, crisp white dress shirt, and black loafers that she's wished up just sit there, taunting her.

Though they are bothersome, Meg eventually decides that clothing is not of import and that she must focus on the task at hand. She opens her journal and speaks calmly, deliberately.]

Filtered away from Silva and anyone else who would warn him:

Dear brothers and sisters, I must ask for your help. There has been murder done here and justice must be swift. If you wish to assist me in this mission, I will lead you to victory.

[A pause as she remembers that she has another job to do.]

I must fulfill my duties... tending bar, but I urge you all to come join me at the Death Match so we may discuss matters. You may also wish to partake in the current festivities, although I do not advise or condone imbibing too many spirits.

May peace be with you all.

[Seacrest out.]

Comments

that first part ; dictated

[samson]

Wait, what happened now?

dictated;

[putuporshutup]

You didn't hear? Someone blew James up with a tea kettle. Doesn't exactly seem like a huge mystery, either.

dictated;

[samson]

No...? Maybe you should have started with that part.

[putuporshutup]

Oh gee sorry, I was a little busy trying to track the guy down. He practically announced it yesterday, didn't think I needed to.

[samson]

Yeah. Maybe if you... said something... then you would've had better luck finding the guy.

Voice

[honeytoes]

[ Somethings happened to James? Suddenly he forgets the trauma of being in a different body and his loyalty to M overrides everything else.]

What's happened to James?

[putuporshutup]

[Seriously does no one actually read here?]

A bomb happened to James.

[honeytoes]

[He's been too busy dealing with the sudden gender change.]

Fuck.

Do we have a location on Emma?

[putuporshutup]

[Yeah, Meg has no idea who the fuck she's talking to, so even if she did know anything, she's not about to give out a whole lot of information here.]

Not a clue. A little busy with the other thing at the moment. Who's asking, anyway?

[honeytoes]

Right...it's Gary. We met in the library?

Its just the castle decided to fuck with me this week.

Filtered to Meg Masters (Backdated to before she got her frillies on)

[silentrunning]

[Chell sees Meg's note about Silver.]

Wait. What? What happened? I'll tell you if I see anything.

[Later...After the frillies and feathers happen, somewhere about midday]

What does imbibing mean?

Filtered to Chell

[putuporshutup]

[It's a relief to hear a familiar voice, but she's still seriously wondering how she somehow ended up being the one to break the news.]

Someone bombed James' room. Three guesses who.

[Her answer is much flatter than her regular voice, simple, and to the point.]

It means drinking.

Re: Filtered to Chell

[silentrunning]

[Chelll swears.]

They BOMBED his room? Yeah. I'm pretty sure I have a clue. There's that one guy... Dunno his name, but I know he has it out for James for some reason...

[Later.]

But imbibing sounds like a fun thing to do! What'd you dress up as for Halloween?

Filtered forever

[putuporshutup]

[Yep. That's about right.]

Silva. I don't know what the deal is either, but I don't really care. I'm just going to track him down and let the friggin' justice squad or whatever figure it out.

[Ugh, don't remind her.]

That may be, but it is not what is most important right now. The castle has... attempted to dress me as an angel, but I can assure you, the outfit is inaccurate.

Re: Filtered forever

[silentrunning]

[Chell nods, and creeps out of her room.]

I'll go peeping around...

[Well, damn Meg. Now you have her curious.]

Angel? Well, what IS accurate?

[OOC: Screen reader, why do you fail me so bad? Doh. I misspelled Silva. Thank goodness you knew who I meant!]

Dictated

[lovemesomepie]

[Dean's voice is a little deeper than usual. His speech also seems somewhat...exaggerated, to say the least.] What's...wrong with you? You sound...like Cas.

Forever

[putuporshutup]

Nothing of import. This costume is not ideal, but there are more pressing matters.

[She pauses, analyzing for a moment.]

You do not quite sound like yourself either, Dean.

[lovemesomepie]

I'm...perfectly fine. Just...distracted.

What's going on?

[putuporshutup]

Do you mean with your voice? I... am not sure, but if you require assistance, perhaps I can help once I have seen to other matters.

[lovemesomepie]

My voice is fine.

What are your...pressing matters?

[Written]

[ofthursday]

[Castiel really isn't sure who Silva is, or later about the murder, so if it weren't Meg he probably wouldn't be bothering to respond at all. But there's something... Odd, about her words and how she's speaking. He's a little concerned.]

Are you alright, Meg?

Dictated

[putuporshutup]

[She recognizes the handwriting easily, of course, and it made her smile fondly. He was a good soldier. Loyal. Perhaps he could help her.]

Castiel. Yes, I am fine. Why do you ask?

[ofthursday]

You seem different.

[Something's off. He's not attuned to very many people, but he is attuned to Meg; something's not right.]

[putuporshutup]

[Though he can't see it, she tilts her head to the side, much like he would.]

People keep saying that, but I know not of what you speak. How do I seem different? I am merely focused on the task at hand.

[ofthursday]

Your speech patterns have changed.

[That's at least the easiest thing to note, and while Castiel is often oblivious to social clues, he isn't oblivious to words. He's actually quite good with words and word choices, and the change is impossible to miss.]