I intend to have a bit of fun with it. Please defriend as you see fit.

Ta muchly.

Because if it's some sort of an hilarious joke involving breaking into my quarters and leaving this for me, then the person responsible will feel either the flat of my hand or the flat of my blade, dependent upon their age.

I am well aware that I am a citizen of His Majesty and see no reason to carry a card to inform me of it.

Curse over? Everyone alive and with all appendages? Splendid. Don't remember much of yesterday, but I think I may have been deeply in love with our horse, which would normally be very curious, but not in relation to the usual events of this particular locality. Luckily, I didn't see fit to declare this to everyone, nor did anyone see fit to declare me the father of their child.

Thank goodness.

Or tell me, do some of you normally all spend the day ranting nonsense like utter cretins?

Of course this boy is an alien: Not only is he from a foreign country, he's from a foreign country in another world.

Thank heaven for sane, reasonable company.

[[ooc: Space Aliens? In my 18th Century Character's vocabulary?]]

Princess Ananova, I must apologise profusely for my lack of contact with you or, indeed anyone yesterday, but whenever I tried to step outside my quarters, some nitwit challenged me to a duel. It got a little tiresome after the fifteenth time, so when I finally managed to escape through a not-too-easily-visible window and go to see to the care of poor Equus it was all I could do to keep out of everyone's way. See, Roberts, is it?, my kindly horse-donating friend this is the sort of curse I'm used to. Madness and horror and all that sort of nonsense.

And Mr Kent, are you quite all right? Was that you who said "Leave me alone, I'm just a regular human" when I knocked on your door to ask if I could borrow a yard brush, or was I cursed and also quite mad yesterday?

[[in the background, sounds of fumbling with buttons and fireworks going off in the distance]]

Ah, there we go, it's working. Good Day, or possibly Night, I can't tell, to you, gentle citizens. Suppose my luck involving the curses couldn't hold out any more, eh?

Now, does anyone happen to know where there may be suitable stabling for a very kindly donated thoroughbred grey gelding, approximately fifteen hands? It's ra...

Stop it, Equus, old fellow...Equus, I insist that you stop eating my hat at once.Oh, for goodn...

*click*

[[Sitting outside Building Six wrapped in a blanket in the dark and watching faraway fireworks, whilst keeping a slightly skittish horse (which is still called Horse, you may note) from Florin calm through the bangs and flashes. And also not eaten by anything.]]

No curses yet? Splendid.

Private to her Royal Highness, the Princess Ananova. Hackable, but you're unlikely to find it terribly interesting.

Your highness, I have an idea, if you will. This polite fellow appears to wish to be rid of a horse, and I wonder if we might perhaps both give the animal a good home, and also add to your teaching repertoire if we gave riding lessons?

Manacles removed (thank you, Sparrow), a decent bath, a reasonable set of clothes, and much improved (thank you, terribly helpful people at the church).

And I even found one of my old tricorns from the last time I was here (fewer thanks to whichever friendly fellow threw it on a rubbish pile outside my old quarters and forced me to give it a bath as well as myself).

Well, city, bring on your curses. James Norrington is ready for you.

First order of the day was finding myself new quarters.

Second order of the day: Making myself useful. Employment appears to be the option here: I am possessed of the following curriculum vitae, should anyone see fit to hire me

Considerable skill in the arts of fencing and swordsmanship.
Mathematics and geometry.
Reasonable dancer, although you shan't catch me in a reel.
All the usual tomfoolery one gets taught at finishing school in addition to useful sorts of things like the command of a ship: Polite french and german, the classics of Latin and Greek, though I confess to not paying a great deal of attention to Seneca or Horace. No more, lest I blow my own crumhorn, as it were.

EDITED TO ADD: Belay that request, ladies, gentlemen and otherwise, I appear to have been kindly offered a position.

[[ooc: Now residing in Building Six, apt. 142.]]

i think ive worked out how to USE THESETHINGSAGAIN. ithasbeen rathe a while thogh so PLEASEFORGIEV THE MSTAKES.

now. does anyonein this accursed city i once again find myself inHAPPENTOH AVE ANY Smithing tools orpossiblysomeungodlypowers capable of MELTINGSTELEEEL (withoutharmingflesh prefeably? I seemtobesomewat encurmbererered.

[[ooc: He's from the eighteenth century. You expect him to get the hang of a mobile phone again quickly? Currently wandering the streets of the city looking for familiar face.]]

Some decently coloured wallpaper, and a deal of proper oak furniture? Possibly also some edifying scenes of Cumbria in early spring? I need to redecorate my quarters to something less silly. I'll keep the balcony, but the ridiculous decor has to go.

( Private, Hackable only to friends. Decide whether you class yourself as such as you will. )

There's a library here. I've been in it. Why didn't anyone tell me about these?

Eight hundred feet long? Crew complement of two thousand? Thirty-three knots?

I think I'm in love. Dead ships can come here as well as dead persons, yes?

Or those "planes". Or the "space shuttle". Did all that only take two hundred years? Incidentally, I'm also covered in snow. Got caught up in it on my way back to my quarters. The weather has become more insane than the Sparrow Collection today. And speaking of my quarters, which one of you ridiculous pair has interfered them? They were decently spartan before and now they look rather silly. And there's a balcony...with wisterias. Really rather pleasant, I suppose.

[[ooc: What they look like now, obviously with Susan removed. Because that would freak him out too much.]]

But damme, man, did you have to hit me quite that hard? I think something's broken...

EDIT: Ah, that's helpful. In a while I'll be going for a walk to building four, and then for a very long walk around the city. I may not be back for some time. Need to think.

LATER EDIT: Right, I'm definitely quitting this building for a while if the pair of them are in discussion.

( Private to Ran )

[[ooc: I'm not sure who my muses hate more, me or themselves :P. Anyway, away for the weekend, and therefore so is he. As for the other two... Uriel is weeping profusely and listening to Dashboard Confessional trying to heal the mangled remains of the garden and won't talk to anyone except perhaps Jan who might be able to cheer him up a bit (you may Godmode a little, Zimon darling, but behave yourself.:P), and Walter is, oh, I dunno, catching up on the ironing he missed while he didn't have any limbs.]]

They're all completely insane! There's five of them, and they're all completely insane.

[[ooc: Exasperated beyond belief, he's going up to the roof of building eight for some peace and quiet. XD]]

I seem to have gone quite wild and badly behaved yesterday. More so than hate day, but perhaps less so than love day.

Well, I suppose apologies are in order. And thanks. I'm sure you all know who you are, to whom they are directed.

EDIT: In all the curses yesterday I forgot to mention this, though it's probably old news by now: Turner, your father has probably proceeded to whatever restful heaven is reserved for repenting pirates who've suffered a decade or so of torment. Jones was alone on his ship, and being dragged here has broken his control over his crew. There's something to cheer you for the day.

LATER EDIT: The increase in Sparrow 1700-2000 doubles is becoming deeply disturbing. I pray I'm not forced to spend any length of time in a room with all five of them, else I should be wandering even further down the path to complete insanity. However, what's even more disturbing, considering Sparrow's chosen career, is that at least three of them are officers of the law. In the most technical sense, obviously. We might be able to make up a sensibly sized militia, if I weren't sure they're all going to spend most of their time here either intoxicated on opium or spasming in nervous paroxysms of apoplexy.

you tol8d me to tkae what i want. and i shal1.

Come on. I'LL T4KE YUO ALL ON!!!!!!111

God, has anyone got any bandages...?

[[ooc: Drunk, cursed and bleeding. Ah, wretched man, what is thy doom.]]

Particularly you, Lieutenant Matsumoto, I am deeply, deeply apologetic. Archangel, if you would do something about this door, please.

LATER EDIT: My god, what have Sparrow and Sands been up to?

EVEN LATER EDIT: Oh...what was that word again? Oh yes.

OH FUCK.

I really came back here. Permanently.

Well, I suppose it was that or feed a kraken Norrington tartare. Jones has probably been hunting me for days. Weeks even. Probably waiting till he had two of his enemies in the same place, two birds with one giant squid, as it were. I'm damned lucky I've got somewhere to hole up for the time being.

Nevertheless, and I shan't be leaving this room today, as I find the lot of you extremely exasperating. Leave me be, if you please. I have half a month's worth of proper sleep to catch up on.

My only aquaintances are acting like a set of prizewinning lunatics, well, even more like a set of lunatics than usual, my quarters have sprung a leak, and there's a storm outside fit to shake the building to bits. And he STILL hasn't taken his bloody CAT back.

I'm going back to real world now, thank you. It was a gorgeous caribbean evening when I fell asleep. Goodnight a