While everyone's lost, the battle is won;

For when there's no entry up, or for random house adventures. Third-person, present tense preferred.

Crew anytime, anyone else with prior notification.

[There's silence, basically. Then finally, it's there: terse, short, without any feeling.]

My siblings are gone. That's Caspian, as well.

If you work at the Blue Light, well. It's now mine. I won't be changing much, but let me know, at some point, if you're about.

Suddenly I understand why I don't get along with the cat.



[ooc: Edmund has a crow for a daemon today!]

Are they gone?





[A SQUEAL]

All right, yes, that's a no.


[ooc: Because Kings are hot Narnian property, you may do as you wish!]

Every time one of those weekends, the ones where people turn into animals or switch sex or I don't know, become children, or whatever else kind of curse the City arranges, I think about some of those stories where people transform into animals as a punishment for something and have to find someone to kiss them back to usual.

Unless you're Eustace, because then all that happens is that you remain a dragon until you die because no princess in Narnia will be willing to give you a kiss.

At any rate: stories of transformation. There are loads in Narnia, of course, but in England, too. I always wonder if that's what the curses here are meant to feel like. Confusing and irritating.

I suppose if that's the case I ought to be more forgiving of the people in those stories, then. Swans and frogs, the lot of them.

I would very much like to have the honor to invite you - if by you, I mean those who are friends with Princess Rosella of Daventry - to a slightly formal but mostly informal party this Friday evening at the Blue Light in her honor.

So if you know her, or even, I suppose, if you don't and simply wish to go to a party with dancing and music, please come by.

On that note, did anyone see Peter dance on the bar last night?

All right, in honor of stories, and a certain blonde, needy young lady, and the fact that I spent a great majority of my weekend being tugged from place to place, here goes.

Once upon a time, because I'm told all great stories start that way, there was a King. This King was terribly handsome and clever, but he lacked in a great many things: ugliness, for one, but more importantly, he lacked in company. See the King wasn't one to scandalize anyone, because then his advisors (of whom there were many, and loud) would yell at him, and he wasn't keen on being yelled at by anyone.

Even Kings can't make everyone do as they're bid just to keep the peace (they call that war, Rosella, just so you know).

And so the King went into the woods one day and lo! He saw there a unicorn drinking from a fountain. Because the King was chaste (and also lonely) he could approach without getting gored (this is a feat for only the bravest of young men, unless you want to ride one, in which case I hear it says something entirely different about you) and the unicorn looked up and sai---

[There's a crash and a yelp and a mrrrrooooowhiiiiiiiiiissssss]

[The camera shows him clanging - loudly - onto the screen]

This is more bloody uncomfortable than you would imagine.

No I can't take it off.

And don't start that I should be used to it. In Narnia I'm welcome to take my armor off when I want to relax!

[ooc: Edmund means wealthy defender!

I have been pushed, pulled, and I think I was at one point inappropriately touched.

And I'm rather sure I did not 'ask for it,' as one lady so adamantly insisted. But, well.

Everyone else seems excited, who am I to rain on that parade?

[The sounds are ship sounds; wind through canvas, waves, the dull thud of boots on wood, and a panicked]

Drop anchor! Quickly!

[More running]

We must wait for Drini-where is Drinian?

Quickly, Caspian, now!

Drop the anchor or we'll get bottomed out!


[There is the sound of a loud splash so quickly that is suggests that the boys were already dropping anchor before the girl pointed out the obvious]

What happened?

[ooc: Ed is black, Caspian is blue, Lucy is red. They're back, and on the Dawn Treader, which is in view of the beach.]