Entry tags:

Phase 13

...if a name's missing from a door, that means the person isn't here any more, right?

Phase 12

...Twenty questions? Huh.

Eh, guess there's worse stuff that could be on the agenda. This isn't all that bad.

Better than playing dress-up, anyway.
Entry tags:

Phase 11

Kinda weird how fast you get used to being in a place like this.

Guess time just flies right by, huh. How long's everyone else been here?
Entry tags:

Phase 9

[Backdated to before everyone started getting their stuff back]

Spike Spiegel )

Rikku )
Entry tags:

Phase 8

Might as well throw my name in here too - if anyone finds anything with "Mwu la Flaga" on it, it's mine.
Entry tags:

Phase 7

Uh.

Ever have one of those moments where you just can't remember what you were doing a second ago? Yeah. Take that, crank it on overdrive.

Kinda weird when all you've got on you is a gun. Anyone know what the hell's up?
Entry tags:

phase 5

[Dictated]

Anyone want to tell me what the giant list of names meant? And, uh, why I was on it?
Entry tags:

Phase 4

[Well now. Mwu has found himself up on the roof after a long walk, and is just staring up at the unfamiliar sky.

Finding out what exactly his loss was has been a real bitch and a half.]
Entry tags:

Phase 3

Sure picked a hell of a time to show up in this place. Nice to have that mess all over and done with, eh?

Good job, everyone. Time for some well-deserved R&R.

To that end, I suppose it's time a man put himself to work. Anyone know where a guy can catch a few job leads?

[Cagalli] )

[Aerith] )
Entry tags:

Phase 2

[Safe Zone Filter]

[Summer or not, the winds can get chilly outside here in the Dead Zone, and after the incident the other night, keeping morale up is a priority.

So, this would be Mwu clearing an area for a fire circle, piling up some firewood, and - after obtaining some matches - starting a fire. It's not much, but maybe it'll help take peoples' minds off the serial killer.

So go ahead! Sit and chat. Room enough for everyone.]
Entry tags:

[Mwu] Phase 1

[An audible rustling of pages mixed with the muffled whisper of hastily thrown-off bedsheets, and then a crash as if someone fell out of a bed. The crash is accompanied by a surprised shout that's quickly suppressed] Wh-- gravity? ...Earth?

That's not... [The words are quiet] Le Creuset, you... no. It isn't him.

The Archangel... what happened to the Archangel?! [Despite his tone being mostly measured, there is a hint of desperation in his voice at the end of his question. And now, this would be various doors in his room being quickly opened and closed]