From Trashman to Trash

Once more, with feeling, my friends:

Please form orderly queues
Death threats to the left, offers of your bodies and blood to the right.

No, Greed, I haven’t forgotten our appointment.

( Private to Arthur and Girlycard )

It's 2007. Henry's an ass. Rayne is not although she has a nice one.

I'm 69 14 70 77 no child, even if that's what I see when I look in the mirror. This isn't teenage curse day, just Millennium's poor construction.

This can't be Purgatory. But Hell wouldn't have some of the compensations I've experienced here. It's certainly not Heaven, unless everything I always believed in church was a complete lie. And Heaven wouldn't be filled with cracks. I'm starting to think I can see something behind them.

[ooc: Strikes deleted by the gent whose train of thought might just be tending more toward the teenage (and insane) at the moment. Shh. I got lazy and decided to use OVA canon on whether vampires can see themselves in mirrors or not.]

Tell me again what year it is.

Don't ask, just tell.

Why on earth was there a talking hat in my home speaking of those who subvert, betray, and lie?

And what is this Slytherin of which it spoke?

[ooc: Please note, this version of Walter really isn't particularly pleasant to people with whom he had any relations before. You've a better chance of pleasant or at least polite if he doesn't know you already.]

This city is filled with the insane if today's goings on are any indication.

How that speaks to my own sanity... I am disquieted. Perhaps I shall sit in on the Mad Hatter's tea, as it is clear that we are, indeed, all mad here.

[ooc: Not cursed. My brain is already broken]

This most certainly is not London. I suppose it could be Purgatory, as I presume that Hell would be significantly more unpleasant, and no one expects Heaven to have a vampire in it.