I deeply regret to inform... whoever it is that has my...acquaintance bound that I'm unfortunately going to need him back.

You see, he's done nothing wrong and does not deserve, shall we say, being bound to a chair under threat of spraybottle. That is just cruel and unusual and I'm afraid I can't have that.

So if you would kindly release him, I shall be most grateful to you. Perhaps I might be able to offer something in exchange for his release, yes? I do believe that you are a reasonable chap, and believe that some common ground may be able to be reached between us.

Thank you.

[So, someone has finally managed to nab their phone back.]

Someone get these nutters off me. My roommate's taken me hostage. Doesn't anyone bother checking on new recruits? I've been tied to this bloody chair for weeks. Hello?

[Private - Aziraphale]
Az? Bloody hell, Angel. I know you're here. One of your feathery friends has turned into a daft nutter. Get him off me.

It truly is a travesty when one steps into a home devoid of not just literature, but books in general. Now amplify that horror times ten thousand, and you might have a small idea of the feeling that awaited me when I stepped into what passes for a library here. What in the world could possess a library to not even carry the classics? How can it even call itself a library? It’s disgusting and disgraceful, and it breaks my heart that I cannot retrieve my own collection.

Oh Lord.

I haven’t got my book collection. Not a single one. I… I don’t know what to do with myself. Not a single copy of Wilde, or Dante… No bibles either. How do you natives handle such emptiness?

Nevermind the nonsense those silly people had told me at the office, this is an actual emergency!

Since most of the daytime celebrations are children's pranks, Ukraine doesn't bother with those, waiting until about an hour or so before dusk to start setting up on the beach. There's a nice big wooden picnic table that she manages to drag onto the sand and cover with food and drink before she turns her attention to building and lighting a few bonfires, making sure they're all different sizes. There's even a small one for the Westerners to jump over if they shy away from the idea of vaulting across five feet of flames. It's a little disappointing that there isn't a river, but part of the forest is right by the beach, so it works out well enough for her satisfaction.

As soon as people arrive, Ukraine appears beside them to cheerfully drop a large wreath of flowers on their heads and explain the traditions so no one is lost, then thank them for attending and shoo them off to flirt and chat and whatever else it is kids do these days.

The party was a lot of fun, right? I was glad to see so many people enjoying themselves after such a difficult few weeks.

If it's not too soon, and if anyone was interested, I thought maybe it would also be nice to celebrate Kupala Night? You know, kind of summer solstice? It's supposed to be a courtship celebration where you play in the water and couples do rituals that are supposed to bless their union and then go into the forest to look for fern flowers, but I'm pretty sure the only person who really cares about that is me, so I guess what I'm trying to say is that it would still be nice to celebrate it with more than just me and Poland, and parties are always fun! Bonfires and drinking and dancing sound nice, don't they? And if you let me know that you want to come, I can make you a wreath to wear! I'll make you one even if you're a boy, so no one feels left out!

Um, please?

I do not understand. What is a stipend and why are you giving it to me?

[Voicemail for Dean - Pick up your phone, Dean]
Dean. The demon Crowley is here.
He has taken a different vessel, but he is here.
I was assigned to 'room' with him.
I have him restrained. I believe he may know who is behind this.

[It takes a second of fumbling and some static before he finally figures out how to work this thing. Sam's the technologically gifted one. He doesn't even have a Facebook.

When he does manage to get it upright and recording, the voice that comes through is distinctly not amused.]

Uh- yeah, no offense to whoever orchestrated this little trip to Neverland, but I've got more important things to do. Angelic Big Brother is getting pretty friggin' old. So if there's some kinda... I don't know... moral or lesson someone wants to lay on me about the apocalypse, can we skip the improv and cut to the chase?

[A beat.]

Also, if anyone's seen a seven foot tall moose-y looking guy, yeah, he belongs to me. Any time now would be... just... awesome. Thanks.

[The feed clicks off.]

[It's just a short audio clip. A series of interupted beeps, someone's number being dialed despite the audio function having already been activated. No one can see the intent and concentrated expression on Castiel's face, but it is there. He is standing in his assigned room at the Four Saisons, and somewhere in the background is the sound of the TV, actually on for once.]

Dean. This is the third message I have left for you. Where are you located?

[A short pause. Castiel frowns slightly to himself. Dean generally returned his calls within a day, sometimes two.]

Do not try to call my phone. It has been replaced. Call this number.

[It took him long enough to figure out his own phone, and he still did not understand it. Understanding this one would take much longer.]

 What:  An action log for Magneto's meeting of the super-powered.
Who: Anyone who wants to come!  He's hardly checking superpowers at the door!
When: 7 PM, June 11th.
Where: The gazebo at Seaside Park.

Erik stood at the edge of the gazebo, looking out over the sea as the sun set and silently preparing himself.  He was not... public-spirited by nature, and while he felt no fear at the thought of addressing a crowd, nevertheless there was a tension, a nervous excitement.  He could change the balance of power here.  A test run for back home.

Unseen, in the rafters above him, he had set half a dozen large iron ball bearings in a steady orbit.  Their regularity was calming to him, as was the security they could provide him at a moment''s notice.  Reaching out with his senses, he could detect the electrical fixtures in the gazebo, the streetlights that edged the park, the cars on the street, and several dozen other small pieces of metal moving -- belt buckles, coins, cell phone components... sometimes, the familiar shape of a gun.

He continued watching the sea until the first of these collections of metal objects moved toward him, and then -- before it came close enough to make a sound -- turned to see who his first guest was.

It would appear that I have been grounded.