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[Nathan is at a pub. A very, very crowded pub. He's nursing the dregs of a beer, glaring a the people at the bar who are squished up against him.]

You know, they really ought to think it through before bringing so many people at once. How's a man supposed to get served with these bastards crowding up the place? It's really incon--

[And then he cuts off, tensing and making choked noises. His hands go up to his throat, as though trying to tear something off.]

Barry!

[And then he falls off the bar stool, kicking off the device and his pint whilst he's at it. The drinks of a few unfortunate people nearby also fall off the bar, smashing as they hit the floor. Only Nathan's flailing legs are visible on the screen now, but his wheezing and choking, with a few protests about "Barry's" actions thrown in for good mention. ("Barry, no! Don't put your cock in there!" and such. Nathan is classy as ever.)

The display is basically Nathan's equivalent of "Don't think I didn't see what happened last time. Where the hell are my friends? :|" Unfortunately, he's cut off by a rather angry sounding man.]

Oi! How many times do I have to tell you you're barred?

Am I? You only said you didn't want to see me again! You never said anything about barring.

I told you before. I won't tell you again. Get up. Now.

All right, all right... just let me get my-- [Nathan's hand covers the screen and the feed cuts off.]

[ooc: Open for anything and everything! Action outside the pub he just got thrown out of, if you don't want the devices. Blue text is just an NPC pub owner.]

[The shot opens on Campbell. Or at least Campbell's legs. Gay Bar by Electric Six is playing loudly in the background. The camera moves up shakily, showing Campbell in full drag.

For a moment, there's just wobbling as Nathan attempts to balance the camera haphazardly on something, cutting Campbell's head out of the frame in the process. Then there's a blur as Dulcie rolls in on a desk chair, knocking Campbell over in the process. Dulcie is dressed in a very well-fitted two-piece suit. Her short hair’s been slicked back, and a fedora is perched jauntily on her head. The whole look rather invokes a Marlene Dietrich vibe. Nathan waves a frantic hand in front of the camera, flicking ash from his joint in the direction of the other two.]

No, no. Get back. It's not ready yet, you've ruined it.

What? Still? You've been setting that thing up for five minutes. I wanna do the rolly chair bit!

You already DID. Onto ME. This is useless. I’m nae standin’ here anymore. Tell me when you’re ready.

[Campbell stalks somewhere out of view of the camera, pouting only slightly. Dulcie slouches in her chair as she watches him go.]

Come on, I wanna have the fashion show!

[Dulcie, very elegantly, chair-scoots over to her desk and opens a bottle of scotch. She takes an impressively long swig of it. Campbell yells from off camera.]

Dulcie, why do y’ need six slinkies? D’you pile them on top of each other? D’you make massive slinkie TOWERS?

[The camera finally steadies itself.] Okay, get off. Get Campbell back here.

CAMPBELL! COME BACK! WE’RE ACTUALLY READY THIS TIME!

[Campbell strolls back into frame, holding a slinky in each hand. And soon as he’s in view, Dulcie launches herself from her chair and pins him down in a flying tackle. By this time the song on the stereo has ended and the viewers are treated to the all-too familiar strains of Lady GaGa.]

Hey, hey, get off him. I don't remember what we said was going to happen here, but I'm pretty sure that was not it.

[Campbell sounds amused, and maybe a bit smug.] Och, gi’ it a rest, Nathan. It’s your own fault.

But he just looks so CUTE!

[Dulcie grabs Campbell by the sides of his face and gives him a very loud, smacking kiss, leaving Campbell looking a bit stunned.]

Seriously, get off him. That definitely wasn't what we agreed on.

I would’ve if I’d known it was an option!

[Dulcie grabs Nathan by the hand and pulls him into frame. Nathan is dressed basically like a slutty fourteen-year-old.] Don’t worry, baby. You look cute, too!

[Dulcie grabs Nathan by his hideous tank top, and pulls him down onto her lap in the rolly chair, giving him a long, slow kiss. Campbell waits a bit and then tilts his head back in exaggerated irritation.]

Aaah are you two gonna do that much longer? I’ll go back t’ my slinky towers.

[Dulcie breaks it off only JUST before he actually does leave the screen again.] Are we still going to do the fashion show? I made a playlist for it and everything.

I thought that was what we were already doing. Isn't that why we put the music on?

Noooooooo! You have to do the model walk thingy!

[Dulcie dumps Nathan off her lap, giving a well-aimed smack to his rear end as he walks away. She is enjoying this being-the-boy part a little too much. Campbell just sits there, distracted, trying to fix his hair. It’s gone askew.

Aaaaaaand… commence the drunken montage of drunken ridiculousness. You all can prolly picture what’s gonna go down here. They attempt some sort of fashion show with Nathan and Campbell doing their best pouty-model faces, but Dulcie keeps ruining things by giggling loudly and generally being a very touchy-feely drunk. At some point they forget about the camera, and it falls off the table. The viewer gets a shot of the ceiling for about two minutes, with more giggling and drunken voices coming in from off screen. The low-battery sign flashes a few times, and the device clicks off.]

[ooc: Nathan is orange, Dulcie is pink and Campbell is blue.]

[Nathan is hanging out on a bench near the fountain, seeming more interested in his phone than the camera.]

You know, Johnny. I was going to text you, but I keep getting this overwhelming urge to tell you to try slipping me an E before you send me to my fiery grave. Since you're probably still on a trial period thanks to you being a total psychopath, I thought it'd be best to say where all your police friends could hear me pointing out that you're not my current drug dealer, even if I do have my suspicions about what you do on the side.

That, and I couldn't be bothered to think up a new alias for you. But it's mostly the dealer thing.

Okay, so some of you appear to be having money trouble. That's okay. Nothing wrong with that. But there are ways to deal with it. Helpful ways that don't include, say... selling your flatmates. I was homeless for a few months myself, so I know the tricks of the trade. And you know what? I'm happy to share.

Rule 1: Never spend money unless you have to. You're at a bar? Find someone else who'll buy you a drink. Why should you have to pay when you don't have any cash? Your friend's already smoking? Get them to hand it over. It's supposed to be a social habit. Shoplifting's fairly easy, but you have to keep your eyes open if you don't want to get caught. It's best to avoid it if you can.

[Nathan turns to pat the vending machine he's standing next to.] You want food? This is your best bet. Yes, okay, this is a drinks machine, but it's the same principle. And honestly, if you have to put in money, you want to save it for the food machine. Things like Polos'll sometimes drop multiples.

Now... [He pauses, adopting a look of concentration as he strokes the machine.] The thing you have to remember is a vending machine is a lot like a woman. You hit the right spot... [Here he abruptly draws back, falling back on the vending machine with a full on body slam.] ...she'll give you anything you ask for.

C'mon, baby. [The next ten minutes or so are filled with Nathan attacking the vending with various puches, kicks, slams and overly sexual noises. Finally, there's a clatter and Nathan bends to retrieve the fallen can. He holds it up to the camera, triumphant, panting and grinning broadly.]

And that, ladies and gents, is how you rob a vending machine. You want anymore than that, I'm charging. Hope you can still afford it.

Hey. Guy who wanted to shoot me. You want the money I'd have had to spend on that?

[Here is Nathan, sporting a very expensive looking suit (stolen by someone who wasn't him, thank you very much) and looking extremely worked up about something.]

Hey! Hey, cop fellers. Since you're always so keen to get on my back over nothing, I thought you might like to deal with some real crime for a change. I know you were too wrapped up with other, no doubt more important stuff to bother the last time I got murdered, but maybe this time you could try doing your jobs for a change.

So I got stabbed, right? I don't know what I got stabbed with, mind. It might have been sword, or something. I'm kind of fuzzy here, so it's hard to say for sure.

Anyway, that bit's all fine. Not that I want people to kill me, but stabbing's fairly tame. Only this guy must've been completely insane. I woke up, and my clothes were just gone. He'd put me in this thing instead. [He tugs at the lapels of his suit jacket here, then continues with his rant.] And he had the indecency to dump a load of newspaper over my head and leaving me lying around outside.

I don't want to start throwing around accusations, or anything, but I reckon this guy must've violated me while I was out. He's probably out there right now, rubbing his dick all over my t-shirt and getting off on his memories of skull fucking me.

He left chewing gum in my pockets, for God's sake. If that isn't a sign of guilt, I don't know what is.

[The shot opens on a close up of the back of Nathan's Community Payback jumpsuit, which, once the camera has zoomed out, can be seen to be hung on the back of his door. It's about the only thing in his room that seems to be in place when the camera pans around the room. There's a pile of dirty washing. A pile of shoes. Some stray feathers. His cigarettes, lighter, iPod, mobile phone and an empty Coke can are cluttered on his bedside cabinet. Finally, the camera comes to focus on Nathan, curled up under his blankets and a layer of letters. He's fast asleep. If you didn't know him, you might almost say he looks innocent.

And then the voice of the narrator.]

Today we join Nathan, a young offender rumoured to have been given his ASBO after eating some pick'n'mix. Currently trapped in a universe without Wertham, he's taking what he sees as a well earned break from his Community Service.

( A Day in the Life of Nathan Young )

[ooc: Cut, because wow, that got long. This is what I get for playing someone who'll play along. Italics is the narrator. Orange is clone Nathan. Pink is NPC girl.

ETA- And I meant to say. Post forward-dated to midnight.]

[Nathan is curled up in bed, so his voice is slightly muffled by his covers.]

Okay, so is anyone else getting any more of those pains that were going on before we managed to get rid of those harpies? Or am I the lucky winner here? [He says 'we'. In reality he didn't do anything to help.]

Fuck. I think this actually feels worse than getting impaled to begin with.

[A pause and some creaking as Nathan shifts on his mattress.]

I think there's still bird shit in my bed. Those bastards better not have given me bird flu, or something.

[Nathan is standing with his arms outstretched, his right arm with five ravens perched on it, and four crows on his left. His left shoulder is occupied by a blue and gold macaw. Despite being covered in a fair amount of bird poo (his navy hoodie may not have been his best choice today), he looks pretty pleased.]

Hey, Captain Birdseye. Say cunt.

[The macaw, Captain Birdseye, just whistles at him, much to Nathan's disappointment.]

No, cunt. C'mon, man. Say it with me. Cunt!

[This time he gets a screech and a click. Which still doesn't impress him. He frowns, starting to get a bit irritated.]

Cunt.

[Click. Nathan glares at him, sulkily.] Fine. Don't say it. [Side eye, then he mutters under his breath.] Twat.

[Screeeeeeeeeeeech.] Wanker. [Click, click, click. And then he's cleaning his feathers.]

What the fuck?! Where'd you get wanker from? I gave up on teaching you that one ages ago.

[Birdseye ignores him in favour of cleaning. Nathan pouts, arms drooping a little.] How long is this going to last for? My arms hurt.

[If you want action, Nathan is around the city, charging at random people with his bird flock.]

[Grubby and cobwebby, Nathan is slouched on his bed, smoking a joint. He's definitely not feeling his usual self, looking a bit more withdrawn than he would normally.]

So, I think I died last night. Either that, or someone slipped me some really bad acid. [He stops and groans there, squeezing his eyes shut and dragging a hand down his face.] I don't know. I'm kind of fuzzy on the details.

On the plus side, immortal. So, I don't have to worry about that zombie shit the rest of you lot have going. Down side... actually, I don't think there is a down side to dying, in this case. I mean, it's that or I got raped by some big, beefy bloke while having the worst trip of my life. [Pauses, looking mildly disgusted as he pictures that.] Yeah... let's not go there.

[He waves a dismissive hand at the camera.]

Anyway, I have this letter... bill... thing. Just so you know, I didn't buy anything, so you can forget about me paying it. Thanks.

[He takes one last, long drag off the joint, then pushes himself forward to stub the end out and turn off the camera.]

[Somehow, Nathan has got hold of a clipboard. He lounges on Eden's couch for a while, staring intently at the clipboard as though the video's an accident. It isn't, however. Which becomes apparently when Nathan sits himself up, as though to make an important announcement. He'd almost seem formal if it wasn't for his casual jeans and t-shirt.]

Ladies of the City! Preferably between the ages of 16 and 30. I'm here to show you the man of your dreams.

A while ago I promised my good friend Campbell I'd help get him laid by a lady who wasn't a serial killer. Seeing how his birthday is coming up and everything, I thought now would be a good time to live up to my word and give him that.

So, if you've managed to avoid killing someone, are relatively good looking and of the female persuasion, please step right up. I have a few questions to ask you... [At that he taps the clipboard meaningfully. Then he shrugs, dropping it on his lap.] But really, so long as you meet those three requirements, I'm sure you're probably fine.

[The feed switches to audio after that, Nathan's sarcastic tone cutting in almost immediately.]

Well, that was touching. Almost like having the good old days back, when Barry would creep around after me filming everything. I mean, this obviously looks like a much steadier hand, but that whole stalker-vibe's still there.

Really, though. Nostalgia makes you feel a whole lot fuzzier when you don't come from a total shit heap. Sorry, City, but try again. 5/10.

In Loving Memory
Nathan Young
1989 - 3000

Who turned out to not be so immortal after all.
Gored up the anus with a red hot poker by midgets
who could not take his promiscuity anymore.

Sadly missed by all but one of his many
tri-breasted wives and mutant children.

You know, I have a proper one of these my mum wrote for me. It was a lot more thoughtful than this one. And probably a lot more expensive, seeing how it was done in marble and everything.

[In an interesting incident of a device actually hating the other person involved more than its owner, the video flips on, inconveniently, as per usual. It's Chris' room, if you're used to recognising it, and his bed, and him IN the bed, draped over another person.

Luckily for the Network, no bits are exposed, however, enough shoulder and back and at least one leg is showing to indicate nakedness of both bodies. His, and (evident instantly from the device in question, if not also the hair) Nathan's bodies.

At this point, Nathan is just waking up. Raising his head a little, he grimaces, trying to shove Chris off him.]

Jesus. Did you put on weight? I remember you being a lot less heavy last-- [Pause. Is that...? His voice rises a few pitches as he finishes that sentence.] night?

[Chris had a busy night. He's tired. It takes him a while to register anything. His death grip gets actually WORSE momentarily as he moans tiredly.] Mmmmnnnrrrff...can't be work yet...don' wanna-- [And then he opens his eyes a bleary crack because something doesn't seem right. What was yesterday? Something happened yesterday. Nathan is slim enough that it takes another moment for it to really hit and then he pulls his arm away, his expression still dopey but horrified-dopey.] I din't....I weren't even... [And then he tries to get away, half functioning, and falls right out of the bed, landing with a thump on the side opposite the camera. There is a muffled "Ow."

Nathan cringes, clambering over to peer over the edge of the bed. Luckily for any potential viewers, Nathan's still tangled enough in the sheets he remains unexposed.] Weren't even a man? Are those the words you're looking for? Because you sure as hell didn't look like one from where I was standing.

[Chris' words are quiet enough, even with a bed in the way of him and the microphone.] I weren't. An' I didn't think I was one neither, okay?!

Oh, sure. [Judging by his tone, Nathan's very suspicious.] So, this isn't some kind of weird gay plot, trying to turn me into a queer?

I'm not a poof! You would've known if I weren't a bird last night anyway, wouldn't you. [Or not talking about that, actually because it DIDN'T HAPPEN.] If it's a plot, it's the deities, an' it hasn't bloody WORKED, alright?!

And what if it was an illusion? You wouldn't be the first man to try and mislead me in this area. Although I'll be the first to admit you did it better than most.

Hey, if you still had the body you did last night, I might even have suggested we go another round.

[....silence. For a bit. Chris is giving Nathan an even more horrified expression than the previous one, even if you can't see it with the bed in the way.] Jus'......jus'......can we not talk about that? Ever? [He gets up onto his knees, still sort of hunched over, to grab the duvet and drape it over and around himself before standing up and heading for the door, trying not to even look at Nathan. He stops offscreen to turn around and speak tersely.] Y'need t' get out, too. An' quietly, like.

[Nathan is not best pleased by Chris' lack of reaction.] What, so that's it? You're not even going to offer me breakfast? [Sliding off the bed, Nathan scrabbles around for his boxer shorts. He gets dressed mostly offscreen, though he isn't quiet about it, intentionally banging into the wall a few times. Lastly, he goes to pick up his device. Which is when he notices it recording. He grins, because clearly that's hilarious, then calls offscreen.]

Hey, cop feller! I think I may have been filming.

[Offscreen, there is a squeak from Chris.] Whaaaaatt?!?!?

[ooc; Green is Chris, Orange is Nathan. All responses will be set a little bit later, when Nathan's out of there and Chris has stopped freaking out.]

[Nathan is leaned up a wall outside a bar, smoking and looking rather irritated. No, he is not wearing green. Which may explain the irritation.]

Okay, so some of you aren't from around here. And by 'here', I do mean worlds where you may find Ireland. I get that! I do. So, for the record? The phrase is 'kiss me, I'm Irish'. So, stop fucking pinching me. All right?

And if you are going to pinch me, at least have the decency to go for the arse.

[Nathan pauses to sniff and pout.]

Today of all days, I should be swimming in Guinness and blow jobs. Not dealing with this!

Jesus...

[Nathan, who's made sure the camera is far enough back to show off his entire body, is kitted out in a denim mini skirt and a skimpy spaghetti top. It also looks as though there may be a badly stuffed bra underneath that. He's barefooted at the moment, but there's a stray strappy sandle next to one of his feet.

Besides him is a fox, wearing a pink, lacy bra.]

City! As a good friend of mine once told me, "every man dies, but not every man really lives". Which is why, now my soul has presented herself to me, I have decided to embrace the truth and live my life as a woman. I can't lie to myself any longer. Not when the truth's right there in front of me.

Now, boys... I know it's tempting, but just so you know, I am definitely a lesbian. So, no touching.

And thank you, inner fox lady, for revealing this to me.

[Bending down, Nathan gives the fox a sloppy kiss on the nose. She looks smug, giving his cheek an equally sloppy lick.]

Now all you need is a new name. Maybe one of them can think one up?

Nah. Fuck 'em. I can think of my own name. Anyway, you're forgetting surgery.

Naming seems easier. And less painful.

Hey, you know what they say. You can't have pussy without having some pain.

[With a grin, Nathan disconnects the feed.]

[ooc; Nathan will be affected by Daemon Day for the entire weekend. Orange text is his daemon, regular text is Nathan. And, no. He didn't pay for those clothes. So if police types want to have had reports of Nathan not-so-subtly hanging around with a fox making off with women's clothing, feel free. \o>]

[Nathan is on a bench, smoking. And possibly sulking.

His legs aren't visible to the camera, but he's sticking them out for passersby to try and trip them.]

The fuck's this meant to be, huh? Family reunion? Population overload? Invasion of idiots?

How's a feller supposed to maintain maintain his usual lifestyle without being attacked with this little running space? I've been punched several times already. And slapped at least twice as much.

[ooc; Open to anything and everything!]

[The video opens on Nathan's face, currently a picture of mortification.]

Wait, you mean we're related!?

[Nathan manages a few seconds more before he cracks, lips twitching up before he snorts. Giving up on hiding his laughter, Nathan cuts the feed.]

ooc; There will definitely be some backtagging here! Also, backdated to the 16th.

[Hello, City. Today you are being treated to a lovely view of a scrawny, still kind of malnourished Nathan in nothing but his briefs. Should you be pleased? Well, he certainly seems to think so.]

Deities! Or anyone else who knows their way around a washing machine. I have an irresistible offer for you to take me up on.

Since my flatmate refuses to do my laundry for me, I've been left with no choice but to resort to other means.

What are these other means, you might ask. To which I respond, this. [Nathan trails his hands sloooowwwwwwwly down his torso, hands coming to a rest just above his crotch.]

That's right. In exchange for washing my clothes, I offer you my body, to do with as you wish. This will be an ongoing agreement, naturally. Unless your services aren't up to my standards, in which case I reserve the right to put a stop to any agreement we might have.

[The video opens with a bewildered looking youth in a grubby, orange jumpsuit holding the camera at arms length. When he speaks, the Irish accent quickly becomes apparent.]

Okay, first off I'd like to thank whoever conveniently decided to leave me with some form of communication, even if it is utterly useless for getting in touch with people I actually care about.

Second? A big fuck you to whoever's fault it is that I appear to be stuck here. I mean, come on! What the fuck!? Clearly I'm not dead, because hello? Immortal. So, what could possibly be going on here?

[At that he drops the confused look, rolling his eyes and looking annoyed instead.]

Oh, wait. Of course! It's something to do with the storm. Which is just a shocker, I know. It's not like that happens every week, or anything.

[A beat. Just waiting for that sarcasm to sink in, then...]

Ohhhhhh, no, sorry. It does. So, I know exactly what's going on here. It's someone's fucked up idea of a super power. Which means you're either a beautiful, barely legal girl, planning on doing something horrible to me, or...

[Nathan gasps, eyes widening with 'realisation'.]

You!

You're the probation worker. You sick bastard! I thought I could trust you. For once, I thought we had a probation worker we could trust. To guide us, to reform us, to refrain from trying to brutally murder us...

Instead you're pulling me into your sick, perverted fantasies, so you can have your filthy way with me.

[Throwing a dramatic arm over his face, Nathan lets out a loud, false sob.]

Be gentle with me. No one's ever taken me that way before.

( The New, Improved Character Survey of Doom )

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Me? I was done for eating some pick'n'mix.

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The New, Improved Character Survey of Doom