Article 1

[bro_codebreaker]

[morning brings the usual ambient noise over the journal: the rustle of bedsheets, the unmistakeable groan of someone who is decidedly hung over, the slow shuffle of feet over generic New Castle Room carpet. normally, a new arrival would be freaking out a little more at this point, but this is hardly the first time Barney Stinson has woken up in a different place than he fell asleep the night before. he staggers into the bathroom and regards himself in the mirror]

Ugh. This was such a bad idea. Of all the colors. Stupid Murtaugh list. I wish I hadn't dyed my hair pink.

[there is a spectacular, shuddering yelp of surprise as, per castle mechanics, the wish is granted]

Whoa.

[he reaches up and puts both hands to his head, then checks the mirror to make sure it's not some sort of trick. okay. okay, he's found a genie somewhere. this is cool. this is awesome. but it is a theory that needs testing]

Okay, okay, wait, hang on a second, here. I wish .... for a diamond pinstriped bespoke Savile Row suit.

[POOF. One Suit Acquired. he lets out a high-pitched gasp comparable to someone who was just told they won the lottery]

Whoa. ... CRAP, I've only got one left. Uhm. Um. ... I gotta really make this count. I wiiiiiish .....? Forrrrrrr....

[there is a period of intense, life-changing concentration before a slow smirk spreads over his face and Barney nods to himself, slowly. yeah. yeeeeeah, that's it. perfect.]

All twelve models from the 1999 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Calendar.

[expectant pause.]

OH COME ON, WHAT A GYP!

and all the things I left behind

[wolfchild]

[ Good morning, Paradisa. Settled down after Event Horizon? Yes? Excellent.

Because there is a blood-curdling scream captured by the journal early in the morning.

The cause is a girl on her bed, trying to claw up the wall away from the direwolf. She sobs when the animal comes close. ]


(( ooc: journal replies will be icly delayed a few hours ))

(no subject)

[atrophied]

In the interest of saving you all some time and myself a headache, my name is Dr. Gregory House. I am a board-certified diagnostician with specialties in infectious diseases and nephrology. Since I'm aware most of those words went over most of your heads, I'll simply say that I am overqualified for the job of patching up injuries received in the course of being good-hearted, self-sacrificing idiots.

That said, it is really difficult to patch up the good-heart and self-sacrificing when doctors are the ones being targeted. I understand in video games you need to take the healer out first, but in real life, even an enemy healer is still a healer and can fix you up.

Do try to remember that next time in your killer-ship induced delirium.

[ Yes, clinic people, he is back. Your vacation is over. ]

Well, that wasn't any fun

[originalcopy]

[ok, it was time to pull his head out of his ass and start doing shit again.  There wasn't anything in the journal from the previous week that seemed important or addressed to him.]

( Filtered to Delta )

( Filtered to South )

So yeah... I think I'm just about ready to switch to the "space sucks" team. 

 [After talking with Delta, Church adds another filter]

( Filtered to Carolina )

Capture 8 | dictated;

[panicswitched]

You know... I never thought I'd say this... but I am so glad to be fully-powered again. Way to start reshaping my ideas on "normal," Castle.

[ for better or worse, she's enjoying being nearly unkillable again. ]

[ there are also filters:

[ helen magnus ]

Hey... You okay?

[ maladict ]

So... coffee and storytime? [ and a request but that will come later. ]

[ nikola tesla ]

Got a question for you.

[ nora diniro ]

...How much do you like storytime?

☠ 056

[molotov]

[Molotov has certainly been a most difficult possible patient. She doesn't like needing to be in the clinic, especially not long-term, and that means nearly everyone around her gets to suffer.

Usually Allen, via her throwing things at him, but no one is exempt from her already-poor temper.

She has greatly perked up since House's return, though, and that means her behavior has improved somewhat. Like no one got screeched at for trying to take her vitals.

They were only sneered and sworn at.

Yay!

In fact, Molotov feels so much less angry that she is now willing to take visitors, and thus makes an announcement into the journal.]

This is Molotov. I am in a room in the clinic. Bring me flowers and candy and whatever else you would bring damaged people.

[ … Yeah.]