It seems everyone is going through a series of issues right now.

If you like, we can talk about it over tea.

I hate this. Everyone's different again. Does anyone even get surprised by these things anymore? I don't. Because, really, what's the point? We get adjusted, then things change back, then we get adjusted and something else equally crazy and stupid happens and the whole stupid cycle repeats itself.

Why bother adjusting at all? Sussing it all out with one another? We know what this is, so why fight it anymore?

I'm just... so tired of it all.

Well, it's out in the open now, so might as well come out and say it.

Ianto's left again. Sort of always knew he would. Never stays.

If anyone needs me, I'll be trying to drown myself in the bottom of a pint glass.

[ The voice isn't exactly clear at first, but it sounds like wheezing. Jack's voice comes in over the mic, weak, and entirely uncharacteristic of him. ]

Help. I... I'm.. I'm dying. I can't.. I can't stop.

[ He coughs, and what sounds like dirt hitting concrete is heard near the phone. ]

Make it stop. Please god make it stop.

[ He coughs again and begins to choke. The sounds continue on for a few minutes while he struggles, slapping the ground and kicking while he struggles for life.

And silence.

At least for a few minutes before he gasps back to life and hits the phone in his waking, turning the feed off. ]

You're kidding me. [There's almost a laugh because really, this is ridiculous. And then there's silence, because he's plucking the com piece from his ear and shoving it into his pocket.] Best equipment SHIELD can make and it stops working...

[And now he's talking normally.]The best story anyone can tell me is that I'm fictional. Really? Because I find that really hard to believe, and I've seen a lot of things.

I don't know what kind of joke this is - and if it is a joke, and if it's FitzSimmons or Skye, someone's going to pay, I swear - [There's a sigh.]

I need someone to fill me in on what's really going on.

[ There's a slight hum as the feed turns on. At first, it's not... exactly clear what it is the camera is trying to focus on, but after a moment, it does. What it does focus on is a large glass jar with an enormous, misshapen head inside, apparently being sustained by the machinery hooked up to it.

It doesn't seem to be doing much other than stare out in front of it. But then it speaks. Sort of. Its mouth doesn't move, but the voice comes telepathically. ]

Time...It is cruel, and it is the greatest gift the universe could ever bestow upon its children. It must be treated with care and respect. You would do well to remember this.

A principal of a school just squished my face and gave me a fairly impressive high-five. A person I don't recognize did, in fact, get me a pizza when I jokingly responded to them with the request upon being asked "Do you need anything, sir?" My phone's voicemail is full of who knows what. This Captain America figure is the coolest thing I have ever seen. And I think I'm secretly running the police department.

How is your day going, New Moore?

[The shrill, shrieking cackle of a toddler playing is pretty unmistakable. Also piercing. Coupled with the blurred motion of the camera being shaken up and down, the first five seconds of feed are pretty nauseating, really. Then the camera gets thrown, and it bounces twice before fetching up against something - miracle of miracles - more or less the right way up. Looking out across a city park, no less! And there, padding across a patch of surprisingly green grass for this time of year, is a little girl clearly no older than two dressed in what might be a furry old dishtowel.

Of course, anyone who's met her can pretty easily identify her as Aisling. She sees something in the grass and sits down so sharply that it ought to have startled her, but it doesn't seem to phase her, and in a moment she has both stubby-fingered hands buried in the grass. A very serious little frown of concentration screws up her mouth and, very slowly but still very visibly, a single snowdrop pushes its way up through the grass to bloom before her. Screeching gleefully, she waves her fists with little regard for the dirt she's showering about.

It seems she's lost interest in the recording device, so until the video hits its recording limit, New Moore is treated to a live feed of Toddler Meets Outdoors.]

I need locations for the following shops:

Thyme to Bloom
KeepsCake
Gareth's Espousal
We're Knot Here
Sous la Cupboard

Does anyone know a good photographer?

Private - Tim

When you have time. A word?

Private - Aisling

I may need your help again. If you do not mind sparing us a place in your forest one more time.

Private - Jack

Let's not make this one a repeat of the last wedding fairy experience. Moving all those sleeping people was no easy feat, I'll remind you.

The main thing that I've learned since my arrival here is that the island takes away what it gives. While to most this may seem sad and depressing, the most important thing that I've learned in my time here and beyond here is that the moment is what matters, not the big picture. Enjoy the wonderful things while you've got them, and don't forget to remember that you live moment to moment and to enjoy those moments, because they are brief, and must be savoured.

By the way, I'm engaged again. No date yet. Still letting the fiancée adjust to life here... It's kinda complicated, but trust me, I'm no less a happy man.

( Private to The Doctors )

There's some really unusual activity happening on the edge of the forest, Jack. Get over here as soon as you can.

I'm glad to see that everyone is feeling better from.. the epidemic last week. I'm feeling great, too, now that I've got a lovely friend from home back in my life. It's been too long, Ianto Jones. To those I was taking care of during that time... I apologise, but it was the only way. You're lucky I'm not easy to bruise.

Feel better, everyone, and rest up. Christmas is nearly upon us.

( Private to Tim )

Who: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, Tim Drake, Aisling
What: New Brew gets a somewhat surprising visitor
When: November First, before closing
Where: New Brew
Warnings: Overly Emotional People and broken family reunions

It's a really nice coffee house. Ianto could almost imagine it was designed with him in mind. Small, isolated, not much room inside and a very well taken care of and nice looking service bar. He almost laughs to himself that the place feels like home. Exactly the sort of thing he would look for, if he had ever opened a coffee place of his own. It is like this strange hell dimension is tormenting him with things he never accomplished, and never will, now that he's dead.

He runs his hand over the door before letting it shut, glancing around as he makes his way to the counter.

"I've been told this is the place to go, for good coffee."

He doesn't sound particularly optimistic about that.

Not exactly what I was imagining hell would be like, but I guess there isn't much worse than finding out your entire life is a storybook someone read once and never cared enough to pick up again. Did I even have a back story?

Well.

At least there is coffee in hell.

Gwen, Jack, it'll be just the two of you at the New Brew for the next few days.  I'm trying the next stage of my physical therapy, and it's probably going to leave me too tired to be up during the afternoon, even wired on espresso.

On the plus side, after that I should be up for good.

In celebration of getting off crutches and braces, I'm going to go dancing, just as soon as I feel up to it.  Anyone want to come with me?

[Locked to Vigilance]

 Effective immediately I'm resuming my patrol routes.  Batgirl, Supergirl, I'm sure neither of you would admit needing or wanting time off, but at least with me carrying my own weight you should be able to call it a night by 2 or 3 AM instead of 4 or 6.  I'll be taking it easy at first, but I've been up on the rooftops on my own time a couple different times now, and it's been working pretty well.

Is nobody else going to mention it? Do I have to be that guy?

[ Oh hey. It's Spider-man, upside down. Turning the camera off himself and showing off some nice claw marks in the side of whatever building he's hanging off then recording the street. Somebody's ripped shirt over there. A trail of fur there. Some more claw marks. A broken window. ]

So. Werewolves.

Are we not talking about this either?

For anyone who didn't get a message, Dick Grayson's been released.

In other news, apparently taking a double courseload, working full time, and picking up video-editing as a hobby is a little too much for me; if I don't do something soon I'll be clocking a B average after midterms.  Which, if you've forgotten, are happening this week.  Anyway, I'd like to remind everyone that the New Brew is hiring.  Apart from interviews, I'll be taking the week off.

Kazu-san, I realize you haven't seen that much of me apart from the day I moved in.  We should make time to get to know one another soon.

You never know how much longer we'll be here.

[The little Irish girl on the other end sounds incensed. Might be good to stay out of the forest tonight, boys and girls.]

They're hurting them! For sport! This isn't a hunt. This isn't killing a diseased thing so that it doesn't spread. This is wrong.