milliways_bar | (no subject)

Meg and Amy are sitting at a table, surrounded by piles of large gingerbread cookies. Some of the cookies are a little burned, some are quite underbaked, and some (and Lord only knows how they managed this) are both. The cookies are rather improbably shaped like rolling pins, tea kettles, toasters, frying pans, and egg beaters.

Amy has an icing tube and is very neatly writing with bright pink icing (which smells alarming like grapefruit) on each cookie:

Meg & Amy Cordully Invite You
To Keep Us From Cooking
Satourday, In The Kitchen

She's then handing the cookies to Meg, who has a bowl of lime green glitter, with which she is festooning each one, for that certain je ne sais quoi.

Derry is also decorated (though not so neatly) with pink icing and green glitter, and is sitting under the table, chattering happily to Simon Perryvall and Mr. Pemberthy. This may or may not have something to do with taking over the world.

Come say hello. You know you want to know what's going on.

[OOC: Tagging will most likely get you two very cheerful girls and a barely edible invitation to a party to be slowtimed this weekend. If you know either Meg or Amy, assume you're invited, but come say hello anyway. If you don't, well, this is a perfect time to meet them.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"We're very well," says Amy, cheerfully. "How are you? Did your friend stop singing?"

"Yeah, he's fine now. Things got... more than a little weird, right toward the end, but people chased the stuff that was causing problems out, so things're back to normal."

*Meg, who hasn't heard about this, blinks, a little.*

. . . he was possessed by an evil magic singing demon?

Wrong canon, Meg.
"...Yes and no. The stuff's music from a high-magic universe - it followed someone in, I think. Not demonic as such, just... forceful. And by forceful I mean Mark didn't touch his camera for nearly two weeks in favor of writing a musical, and that's only the tip of the iceberg."

"But it's all settled now?" asks Amy, with a bit of a frown.

"This is a terribly stange place sometimes, isn't it?"

"Yeah, just a bit. 'Course, the outside world's giving it a run for its money, according to Mark." Angel grins.

I don't see what's wrong with writing a musical, *Meg says absently, busily starting on the next cookie,* but each to their own, I guess - what's the deal with outside?

"This is Mark I'm talking about, though. By all rights, he should've been filming everyone else going batshit and not leaving that to me. Or thinking he was me, right before the music got chased out. That was... I still don't know.
"Anyway... Mark's movie about all of us back in New York - did you hear he sold that? I forget who knows and who doesn't. But it got nominated for some major awards. I got nominated for one of them. Not quite sure what to make of that, just yet."

Amy, who barely knows what a movie is, and is utterly clueless on the subjects of awards shows, looks a little bemused.

"Well, congratulations, I think. What sort of awards?"

"They take all the films that got major releases the previous year and decide which was best overall, who the best actors and actresses were, a bunch of stuff like that. Pretty big deal. One of the things with Mark's is no one seems to realize all that stuff really happened. So they might want to give me an award for being the best actor of the year when I wasn't even acting. I really don't understand people. 'Course, Mark's just as baffled that people might want to give him stuff."

*Meg looks up, at that, a little puzzled, and meanwhile accidentally ices her thumb.*

- wait, would you be able to go?

"Doubt it. I'm not letting Mark spend another week dead - long story," he says, for Amy's benefit* - "and I don't know of anything else that'd let me go back. Mark said he'd save a seat for me in any case. Let people wonder why it's empty, and why I'm not there. If they don't get it by now..."

*However, the mun has just realized she doesn't know whether Meg ever heard about Wishplot, so the aside may be to both their benefits. Angel will elaborate if asked.

Amy blinks.

"I'm sorry," she says after a moment. "I don't think I followed that at all. Should I have?"

"Mark somehow got it in his head that he had to give me a chance to go back to our world for a while. So he talked to someone here who specializes in granting wishes, and ended up spending the week dead in my place. I don't think he knew that was gonna happen, and I kinda doubt it would've stopped him if he had. That was a few months ago - he got better. And for the awards, they have this big ceremony thing that, since people can't seem to understand I really am dead, I'd be half expected to put in an appearance at. But I don't think showing up is mandatory, and I'll have an honorary seat anyway."

Yeah, I remember that, *Meg says, a little wryly.

She hadn't been thrilled with the concept at the time. And her opinion hasn't changed.*

- well, *she adds, more cheerfully,* you could just pretend to be the kind of person who's Too Important To Go To These Paltry Awards Shows, anyways.

"You're kidding, right? I'd love to go. Show some of those girls how to wear a dress properly, if nothing else. And I'm gonna give Mark, or maybe Collins, something to say on my behalf if for some damn reason people decide I need an award for acting I didn't do. In any case, I'm gald I'm at least somewhere I can know all this is going on."

"Well, yes," says Amy. "It all sounds terribly interesting, even if I'm still not sure I completely understand it."

She looks at him.

"Is there any way you can go dead?"

"Not so far as I know. And really, it might make more of an impact if I don't show. Let the truth of the matter sink into people's heads a bit, possibly."
as it broadcast the words 'Actual Reality'
Angel shrugs. "Besides, my best friend spending the week dead in my place might well be one of the more pleasant variations on resurrection available. If that's the case, I'm not too keen on finding out what else there is."

- well, *Meg says, a little hesitantly,* it is possible to go to the outside world - although maybe only other people's outside worlds, I dunno. And you start to fade after a little while - but, I mean, I've done it.

"Might be possible, but... I don't want to go if I can't be there, you know?"

(OOC: And I need to get to sleep. Not sure when I'll be around tomorrow due to traveling; slowtime or fade as you'd like.)

[ooc: Fade probably works. Sleep well!]