[Ed has been a little stressed out lately, with all that has been happening in the room. He decided to ask the room for something to take his mind out of it, and the room gave him a pill. But the pill has had a strange effect on him...]

Okay you know what? I'm fucking done with all this walking in circles. Cass! I need to talk with you.

And hell, since I'm at it... Lucius! The arseholey one. We're talking. NOW.

Oh, you know what? FUCK IT. EVERYBODY, COME HERE. I WANT TO TALK WITH YOU. Tolly! Merlin! The freak that's always asking MY boyfriend for matches! The other freaks who do fucking for the money, Remus- wait, no, I don't really want to talk with you, you're annoying and bore me out plus you're DENSE, fuck off...

AND FOR FUCK'S SAKES, AMMONITES, BA'AL, THIS HAS TO STOP FUCKING NOW.



[WARNING: Expect crankiness, incoherence and extreme mood swings. The pill was partially a truth serum (He CAN lie, but he's less likely to do it) so it's also a good moment to ask questions.]

I always end up having to follow her.

Really, Aphrodite, chaos and strife are my jobs. Let them to me. This place generally takes care of itself on it's own.

[Echo sits in front of a mirror making faces. It's highly entertaining to the little nymph and she giggles silently, sticking her tongue out.]

There are a lot more of us here, now. I wonder if something's happening.

I've lost a script for Much Ado About Nothing. It's quite worn, and has marks in purple ink all over it. I'll be much obliged to the person that returns it.

I know I haven’t been in San Francisco for a while, but this is not how I remembered it. Where the hell am I?

 
[She mutters to herself staring at the room. She moves slowly, eyeing every corner with suspicion, expecting demons to jump out of nowhere… Or not. The place doesn’t look threatening after all. But still, she just wanted a decent coffee.]

 

Hello?

 

[She finally says, sounding a little annoyed.]

Someone has left a few... ahem.

A few copies of Justine, along with select other works by de Sade lying all over the floor and while they certainly aren't my normal literary preference, I can not stand to see books mistreated. Whose?

When you truly need something, this place refuses to deliver.

Okay okay fine I'll deal with the freaky Twilight Zone BS, but for the love of baby Jesus the least this place could do would give me a decent number of bars for my blackberry. Some of us were in the middle of texting. Lame.

( She has come from the shadows of the dream world... )

Must there always be yelling.