[ the video is pointed at what appears to be an elegant looking purple cat sitting in irene adler's lap, purring as she strokes it. to be honest, there couldn't be a better choice in terms of her companion.. they seem to suit each other. but what about all this fighting nonsense? she'd rather not participate, if she had a choice. ]

I woke up this morning and look what I suddenly had. Her name is Delilah. And any attempt to 'fight' or anything similarly crude will be declined, thank you. Isn't it barbaric to pit animals against each other? Especially ones so sentient.

[ you guys ought to be ashamed of yourselves. ]

I've been thinking lately, it might be time I sought employment.

Sometimes I'm really happy that my roommate doesn't actually stay in the house.
Side-note: Your pet store ran out of reptiles. Just. Letting you know.

Anyway. Hey, Marceline? Remember when everyone's ages were all messed up and I promised to show you a jellyfish? Ta-dah. I present you jellies.

I'm sticking the them back in the water if anyone wants to help with that.

Who: Helen Magnus, Arthur Kirkland/England
What: Dinner
When: Early April?
Where: Starting at his place? We’ll see from there.

(  Helen had spent nearly four months on the island by now, a relatively short while considering her longevity but long enough to start thinking she might truly be stranded here. )

[It seems the personality changes have claimed another victim. And she's obviously agitated.]

Humanity has gotten rather disappointing, as of late. An entire world... And they simply don't see it. They don't see what's really there. We've forgotten the world we were born of.

Of course, they claim that world is a fiction. And this one... It's so empty.

How do they live like this?

[ When the feed comes through, the only sound that can be heard is crackling and the occasional pop. If one didn't know any better, one might assume that it was fire they were hearing. It is a long moment before a voice comes over the feed, low and gruff-sounding, though muffled, as though the device were stowed in a pocket.. ]

It's not enough. Not enough destruction. What purpose do I have if I cannot cause destruction?

[ pop. ]

No... it cannot be meaningless. Destroying mere things gives me no pleasure. But to destroy a life... Oh... oh yes. There is no greater destruction. Destroying body and spirit in the same motion... to watch it fade before my eyes.

That could be... delightful.

Um. Just a public-service announcement. I've noticed a lack of recycling here with that recent heat wave and everything so if I can just ask you all to switch to reuseable water bottles instead of contributing to the world's pollution by using a ridiculous amount of plastic ones that would be greeeaaat. Thanks.

Also that volcano made like a huge dent in our great tree friends so maybe think about helping replant those instead of fixing your asbestos-filled roof first? Those roofs that really ought to be replaced completely to a newer and environmentally safe alternative can wait because it takes far longer for a tree to grow than to throw money at that. Maybe make the entire thing solar panels! Ohhhh. That would really help reduce our oil use. We should do that.

Let's just make roofs out of solar panels.

I was hoping for a little more destruction and burning, but I guess I'll have to take what I can get around here.

I couldn't even get a decent hula hoop session going. This place wishes it was as smokin' hot as the Fire Kingdom.

I can help with the volcano, but I also don't want to make it worse. Can anyone help?

Who: Helen Magnus, Arthur Kirkland/England
What: Encounters
When: February 3
Where: Around

( Today, she’s better acquainting herself with the city, learning her way around. )

[Helen feels she’s fared better than many during the island’s most recent affliction. The bruises from Adam’s beating stand livid against her skin and she moves gingerly, but she takes comfort in the fact she’s noticed no signs of the radiation poisoning that once plagued her. The rest will fade.

It’s late when she picks up her phone, addressing the network.]

This island seems keen on tormenting us. I assume I should expect something similarly unpleasant on a regular basis, then?

[A young Helen Magnus graces your network today, tilting the device first one way and then the other as she examines it, making for a rather shaky first few seconds of video.]

I’ve never seen anything like it. [Her brow wrinkles in confusion as she stares hard at the smart phone in her hands once again.] What is this device?

(ooc: For anyone who would know what she looks like, assume she is recognizable as Helen. Just much, much younger. Mid-teens-ish. She will never admit how long it took her to figure out the smart phone.)

[ There's a slight hum as the feed turns on. At first, it's not... exactly clear what it is the camera is trying to focus on, but after a moment, it does. What it does focus on is a large glass jar with an enormous, misshapen head inside, apparently being sustained by the machinery hooked up to it.

It doesn't seem to be doing much other than stare out in front of it. But then it speaks. Sort of. Its mouth doesn't move, but the voice comes telepathically. ]

Time...It is cruel, and it is the greatest gift the universe could ever bestow upon its children. It must be treated with care and respect. You would do well to remember this.

Fictional. I suppose one could say the life I have lived is impossible, borrowed from stories and false accounts. But I have never felt my world was imagined. I have never doubted my reality.

I hardly intend to start now.

Do many so easily turn from life as they’ve known it? Regardless of what this world is or how I came be in it, I know who I am. And the world I’ve left behind is more real to me than this one ever could be.

I trust the island has righted itself?