Heard about your boyfriend. How's he doing?

Can anyone tell me anything about Aisling? It might help us get on track.

ETA: Yes, the girl who's missing.

Is it just me, or does it seem like there are more unsupervised squirts running around today than there were yesterday?

[Oh look, it's a grumpy Officer Beifong, frowning tightly as she tries to figure out this crazy device. They said if you pushed like that and then this one, then it would-- oh, is that what the little red light means? Her expression smooths into a clean PR face.]


Given all the new items and vehicles cropping up around the city, the police department's Lost and Found is somewhat packed. If any of the following items resemble something you once owned, please come down to the station and claim it. You will need to be able to give a detailed description of the item.


[Some somewhat shaky camera work turns the view round the begin panning down several tables with items laid out in tight formation to fit as many items on a table as possible.

First came the full table of lone bikini pieces, single socks, swim trunks and boxers, deflated beach balls and snorkle masks. Then the table of music players, a small thicket of water bottles in various styles, five sets of sunglasses, two pair of reading glasses, several baseball caps, a stetson, a red velvet fez, a few different picnic baskets. A clothes rack of windbreakers, towels, tattered blankets, pairs of pants.

Then came the stranger things. A collection of hubcaps. Something that looks like a window, with an electrical cord neatly tied next to it. A stack of painted two-by-fours. A chainsaw-carved bear stump. A crystal punch bowl. An ornate silver coffee pot. A table of various weaponry: a bow and metal case, an ornate ornamental katana, several baseball bats in both wood and aluminum, a small selection of sidearms. One of the pistols has a chain with dog tags wound around the grip.

Then a table of picture frames and books. One picture in particular stands out in its tasteful frame somehow devoid of rhinestone kittens. The one right next to it appears to be a certain smiling professor in his twenties with a dark-haired woman with impressive cheekbones. The books appear to mostly be journals and diaries, left closed, and a few photo albums. One of them looks like it's probably a wedding album. There are a few children's books on dinosaurs and at least one world atlas of Earth, as well.

A few counter top appliances follow, including a very nice coffee maker. Finally, there was a small card table with a few table lamps, an electric fan, and several smaller objects. A trio of dolls, of various sizes, shapes, and cleanliness. A well-worn bundle of pine needles wrapped with a white bandage and tied with a vine. A single set of dog tags, devoid of any attachments.

The camera shifts back around to Lin.]


John H. Watson, please come down to the station to claim your belongings. And whomever goes by the name "Wolverine", we also have something of yours.

Logan is sitting at the bar in the Nancing Phony, nursing a beer and looking broody. He's still pretty pissed about being stuck on this island, and now that he's managed to scrape together a bit of cash, his priorities have been straightened out--booze and cigars. Is smoking even allowed here? Doesn't really matter to him, because he's currently puffing away.


[ooc; Dear bar people. Please mingle and threadhop to your heart's content.]

What the fuck is going on here?

Those freaks at the hospital fed me some horse shit about being fictional, but what's really going on? Terrorists? Did they bring me here 'cause I'm a mutant, or don't they discriminate?