7 Famiglie~ [Action/Accidentally Dicated]

[is_mafia]

[There's a boy in the lobby, looking around at all the couches and the things in the lobby. Strange thing is, he looks remarkably like Giotto, if you know Giotto. Or maybe a blond version of Tsuna with an Italian accent. He hasn't noticed the journal yet, conveniently lying open on one of the tables near him. It's near enough to pick up sound and him muttering to himself.]

This is the second time this week I've been grabbed... G's going to never let me live this down. Though they're not smart if they didn't tie me up...

[He nudges a table, considering how easy it would be to use as a weapon. Or at least a leg.] Unless this is some sort of prank, and it's really not funny, you two! [He raises his voice a bit at the end.] Though, where would they have even put me...? There's no castle around the village.

[So he keeps shuffling around, poking at stuff until there's a sudden crash as he knocks a decorative ornament off a table.]

...Oops.

106.5 - cruel summer (forward-dated to 10 PM)

[hard_talker]

[it's been a few weeks, but the regular broadcast has not been forgotten. late this evening, Leonard Cohen's voice comes drifting over the journals, then fades out, replaced by an equally familiar drawl:]

Goooooooood evenin' folks, this is Hard Harry comin' at ya live from the roof, because it's too fuckin' nice out to be somewhere else. [there's the crack of a soda can, before he starts right in to business]

Lots'a new folks since the last time I was on the air, so let's do this with a twist. You know how in school, there was always that one kid who did that thing with the alphabet?

Yeah. Here goes half my cherry Pepsi, and then awaaaay we go.

[there's a pause, and then - yes - Mark actually starts BELCHING the newcomers' names into the journal like the mature individual he is]

Emma, Dean, Barney, Arkady, Hook, Raiden, Sam, Lauren, Bilbo, Mal, Levi....

[and then he runs out of fuel.]

... Never could make it all the way through the alphabet, either. Anyways, we also got another Doctor of the non-Time-Lord variety, Sydney, Brittany, Yotsuba, aaaaaand Dave again! Stick around this time, would'ja, bro? ...

And hey - for anyone who missed it, York's holding a steam-powered race-type competition thing to the Dead Zone. Also, Nora's gettin' ready to re-open her gallery, which is why yours truly has been a little scarce on the ol' airwaves. If I see another roll of painter's tape again, it'll be too fuckin' soon, let me tell you.

[he finishes off his soda, lets out another marathon burp, and crunches the can]

I dunno, I came up here hopin' that starin' at the sky would make me feel all ... philosophical. Y'know, reflective-like. Gimme somethin' good worth' runnin' my mouth about. But all I can think of is that one cartoon, the one where people were all up in arms because some perv got convinced the animators wrote "SEX" up in the sky in the stars. Now, I can't see anything like that up here, but if I look out over in the direction of the Dead Zone transporter, there's a bunch that kinda looks like a rooster. Which is almost as good, I guess. Cocks in the sky's better than nothin' at all.

Anyways, summer's on us, folks, whether we like it or not. Maybe we should do somethin' with it. ... I'm gonna put some music on and get to brainstormin'. You guys put your thinkin' caps on, too, let me know if you come up with anythin' good.

[with that, he pops the mix tape he made earlier in the day into his boombox, jams the play button, and on goes the music!]

7th elevator-Voice/action

[honeytoes]

[ Currently sat in the Death match bar is Gary. However rather then just sitting with a beer and overthinking on events at Paradisa and back home he's sat at a table in front of a large blackboard. He would have his feet on the table like an elderly frat boy but M was nice enough to let him set up here and she's pretty much his adoptive Director.

Garys golden rule...don't fuck with the Director.]

Alright ladies and gentleman...I think this totally needs to be said.

This place is fucking miserable.

Yeah I know hardly a world shattering revelation. But traditionally back home, or at least my home where there is misery there is also a chance for profit. It's the American dream...kind of.

So with that being said I'm proposing we make things a little more interesting around here...lets start up a betting pool on the first major castle wide incident that will hit us for this month

For those of you unfamiliar with the glamorous world of wagers. A betting pool is where a number of people put money into a pot and individually make a bet on a particular outcome. The more the gamblers the higher the prize.

In the event of no winner...full refunds will be given.

I know, I know...it's a little tasteless. But the way I see it we're going to get fucked anyway, who says we can't get a little enjoyment out of being stuck with little brats or transported in to space? Unless you like that sort of thing?

So if anybody wants to come on down to the Death match bar...sample a couple of drinks from the wonderful new owner and make a wager then show me what you got boys and girls!

[ OOC: Let me know if you want your character to win. It would be the first person to message me but essentially though this is all just for fun.]

006

[littlesoul]

[She's up high, as high as she can possibly manage without being on the roof of the castle itself. She's not having a bad day exactly but it is the kind of day where she's wary of 3pole. There are people she wants to see though, people she wants to interact with, even if she can't quite bring herself to interact with them directly.

So she puts a call out to the journals. No words are spoken but she hums, offering out a song for anyone to do with what they wish. She's not opposed to words though and will use them if they are use with her.]