Who: Kanaya Maryam and Vriska Serket
Where: Vriska's Hive
When: Around the time of certain events
Style: Cautiously Adorable
Status: Closed

It's about six in the morning when Kanaya arrives unannounced at Vriska's hive. She not quite sure what she's doing here... but she can't think of anywhere else to go. She knocks on the door, loud enough to try and rouse the occupant of the hive.

Kanaya's hands are covered in green, and it's not all tears.

Who: You, you and YOU! Anyone who is up for some good ol' sparring/training/getting their face beaten in
Where: In the park
When: All week, starting on the 20th!
Style: Anything goes!
Status: OPEN


It's a good week in the bubble! ...Then again, every week is fairly pleasant, temperature wise, in this little city under the sea.

But!

This week is extra pleasant, because there are training dummies set up all over the field in the park, all ready and waiting to be smacked around or smashed into itty bitty bits. Oh, but if hitting dummies aren't your thing, there are also targets for the archers and marksmen who want to get some target practice set up at the north end, cordoned off so people don't accidentally wander into the line of fire. And for those who'd rather play it safe or would like start learning the art of battle, there are plenty of practice weapons in... wheelbarrows? at the corners of the field.

Well, okay, this week would actually be unpleasant if you use the park for some peace and quiet. But for everyone else wanting to get some good old fashioned sparring and training in, this week's a great time to do it!

Who: A certain demon and a certain angel (Anthony J. Crowley and Aziraphale)
Where: A nice bar
When: Super backdated to right after this embarassing incident
Style: Anything you want!
Status: Closed like something really closed.

Well, wasn't this the best day of his very, very long life?

Anthony J. Crowley had plenty of bad days. The worst one, in his opinion, had been the Apocalypse That Never Was, followed very closely by the day that he accidently stumbled into a quaint little Spanish Inquisition meeting.

It was definitly not what he had been expecting, that's for sure. (It took well over two weeks to get over the memories of that time. And even after that, he still would shudder if he ever heard someone mention the name. Humans could be horrible, horrible things if they wanted to be, in Crowley's opinion.)

So, just like what he did back then when a day came up that just ruined his mood, Crowley turned to the one thing that he knew would fix the problem when nothing else would.

Alcohol.

He's standing in front of the door to the bar, puffing away at a cigarette and looking a bit roughed up after a very annoying fight with Otoha. Honestly, he's hoping that the angel wouldn't ask him too many embarassing questions about what he just saw. The last thing he needs is awkward questioning, and he's definitely not in the mood to answer any of them at the moment.

No. This had better be forgetten for good between the both of them. For good.

Who: Dhaos and whoever decides to invade his room
Where: his room
When: backdated to about 10 am
Method: brackets, brackets, everywhere brackets
Status: Open to anyone who knows where he lives

[Warm... So very warm...


...It's bright.




...Where... am I...?




Slowly, Dhaos finally opens his eyes. He is greeted by the sight of his ceiling and the light coming in from his bedroom window. Strange; he didn't recall falling asleep. He blinks a few times before slowly sitting up.]