[LOOK UP IN THE SKY.

IT'S A BIRD. IT'S A PLANE.

NO?

It's Selphie suffering from a bout of boredom and a great gaping need to put a little spice into her training regimen. So throughout the many districts in Asgard will be one Selphie Tilmitt apparently attempting to commit suicide in the stupidest way humanly possible. Why yes, there is a young woman either in the process of climbing onto the roof of many a building and trying out her luck in jumping across to another nearby roof or leaping from the edge of said roof.

She has the devils luck after all but what are you going to do about it? Stop her? Join her? Egg her on? Freak out like there's no tomorrow?

Or if you ever needed a clear indication of just how crazy Selphie can be, this is a pretty good indication. She'll be doing this all day so there's no knowing what she's getting herself into.]

[Looks like someone's in the kitchen! Hello again Asgard.]

Hypothetically speaking, if one were to attempt to toast a sandwich and it caught fire--[pause. He sniffs indignantly.]--suppose we won't get into that.

[Around him a small stream of smoke begins to thicken, growing considerably.]

If anyone is interested in a bit of good cooking I've decided, in my graciousness, to contribute to this little cause of ours. [As he speaks, standing near the stove, the smoke increases dramatically and England's shirt bursts into flame at the hem.

He doesn't seem to notice.] If you join me, you're more than welcome to ah, bring something of your own--it's only polite!

[At this point, the food he's already cooked begins to catch flame, which is probably a mixed blessing, because it seems to just add fuel to the fire. It's right around this time that England notices everything in front of him, including his clothes, is igniting like dry cheap Christmas trees being put on sale next to a pile of fireworks.

Yeah, like that, except not as pretty but possibly just as entertaining.

The shock hits him slowly like an awful, silent crescendo heralding disaster capped by a backwards leap and a shout; thus effectively ending the transmission.]



[ooc: yup. ACTION FOR HEL'S KITCHEN. All replies over the network will be given after the fire's been put out. Nothing too serious, unless someone tries to salvage what he's cooked. Bed soon so tags will be had in the morning! <3]

 Look, I...

[Cody has to take a moment to rub the back of his neck, trying to think up a good way to put this into words.]

I ain't too good with 'em. People, I mean. Ain't really had to deal with 'em in any real capacity for a long time. I'm not usually one to drone on and on about how borin' my world is, or drop sob stories about the system bein' messed up, but I guess if we're gonna' get through all of this, I should at least come clean about a few things.

[And now, after talking about how he usually doesn't drop sob stories, here's a sob story.]

Alright, I'll run though it quick. I grew up on the street. Metro City's about the most violent place on the Eastern Seaboard, and I was put right in the thick of it. I did some bad stuff growin' up, but I got out of it. You know, that typical "bad guy meets good people, blah, blah, blah" type of story. Did some good stuff, picked up a lotta' fightin' experience, destroyed a few criminal syndicates. Of course, problem was, I kept fightin'.

See, that's the thing about gettin' really good at something you love. You can't just turn it off. The same people who loved me when I was doin' vigilante business turned on me. Beatin' up bad guys when they aren't doin' anything at the moment is apparently called "assault". Doesn't matter if I KNEW they did bad stuff, by the letter of the law I was wrong. So. Prison. All those good people I mentioned? Out the door. There, short and sweet.

[Cody doesn't seem too broken up about the whole thing. Really perceptive people might notice a hint of bitterness in his voice.]

Anyway, all this is to hammer the point home that there is one thing I can do, and that's fight. I can also teach fightin'. If anyone wants to learn some basic hand-to-hand moves, I'll be in Thor's District. I'll warn you, I ain't too good at pullin' my punches, and I prefer to teach by example. You don't really get how effective a move is, until it's been used on you.

I doubt this'll mean anything if a dragon returns, but at least it's something.

(OOC: I'll be back to respond to replies after I get back from the gym.)

Hey!

I'm looking for a guy with red hair. I'm sure I saw him just yesterday, but I went to his room this morning and it was locked, but there was no one in there. And it looked -- spotless. As if no one had ever been living there.

[It sounds utterly ridiculous, she knows. The guy probably just moved out or... something... without telling her. Why would he, anyway? Being from her world he had the normal fear of Witches. Anyway, this city is plenty big, surely moving out is an option no one has bothered with yet!]

Um.... [This was a waste of time. Why is she even bothering saying any of this? Stupid. She should just go find someone else who is a good, spineless cook.]

If you're out there, you red-headed idiot, you owe me a meal! And don't try to hide because I'll find you.

[ Hey there, Asgard. Grinning at you is a particular spider girl, who for some reason seems particularly spidery today.

Which may or may not be because she's holding up one hand in front of her, and crawling rapidly across her fingers is an actual spider. ]

( cut for more spiders. no pictures, but lots of discussion of them. don't click if you h8 spiders! )

Anyway. Hey, Roxas! I've got a faaaaaaaavor to ask you. You better contact me when you see this!

[ With that, she reaches up to the screen. Though she feed seems to shut off, she actually leaves it open for one person. ]

( Locked to Sam )

You too, Mr. Hunter.