Umbridge Island Radio, Tuesday, July 24th

[archparakeet.livejournal.com]

Umbridge Island. Squirrels. There's singing today. So I'm going to try to keep my sentences as terse as possible. Which might be hard. You were all pretty busy yesterday. You know. Doing the will of our glorious ruler the ravishing High Inquisitor Ms. Dolores Jane Umbridge, who oversees this island with a merciful eye and a fair hand.

Give me the notes, rodents. And they had better be good. I heard yesterday's broadcast.

Ah, yes. There we go. You may all run back to whatever holes you were hiding in, these should be adequate.

( Adequate Radio. )

Resistance Newspaper

[plzdontcatchme.livejournal.com]

At the Arms, Mr. P. Coulson was polishing weapons (non-magical of course) in the basement. Friendly reminder that all magical weapons require either a note from Guess Who or some pretty successful bargaining with Coulson.

In the alleys, Mr. L. Castellan was enjoying a nourishing meal when provoked by Mr. P. Jackson. Also, the area in the alleys is supposedly slippery right now, so be careful where you walk.

A warehouse was home to some talks about the activities planned for Saturday, which everyone should be participating in.* And later, in a different warehouse, Mr. A. Wiggin and Mr. B. Skywalker had a debate over the ownership of a lightsaber.

And in the back room of Ms. K. Pryde's lovely establishment, there were a lot of visitors. Including Ms. R. Gilmore, who came for the drink and stayed for the pep talk, Ms. K. [Kenzi's last name], who came for… probably also the drink, because it's a bar, and stayed for a warning not to get thrown in detention, and some squirrels who took a bribe. Mr. T. Lannister was really popular too, talking to Mr. B. Priestly about the power of music, Mr. W. Kessler about... let's say dirty jokes, Ms. K. Pryde about his partying spirit, and the aforementioned Ms. R. Gilmore about how weird yesterday's radio was. Which it was. Weird. Mr. Kessler also invited Ms. Pryde for darts, which she had to decline.

At the same place, Mr. P. Coulson mentioned that he got a new shipment of… stuff in. You heard it here first, you guys. Ms. N. Romanoff arranged a drop-off for some stuff, before turning her attention to Ms. Pryde to place a drink order. She also talked to Ms. K. [Kenzi's last name], but it was in Russian, which I don't think the squirrels speak. Sorry, you guys.

There was another altercation on the streets between Ms. C. [Cara's last name] and Ms. S. SaDiablo, which the squirrels seemed to really enjoy. Also on the streets, Mr. L. [Squall's last name] was dining with the help of a masked figure and Ms. K. [Karla's last name]. That was nice of them.

And that's it, guys. Have as un-unpleasant a day as possible!

* The activities planned are storming detention. Being subtle about that seemed counterproductive.

Resistance Newspaper- Wednesday

[dontphasemebro.livejournal.com]

First and foremost: Yes, yesterday was One Of Those Days. You weren't imagining it.

Mrs. A. Nast tended to her husband after a fight, and also they sang. This is a theme. Miss K. Gregson sang about missing someone, but was consoled by Mr. L. Castellan. Miss A. McShane discussed firework experimentation, and Mr. P. Wiggin is now sharing a hideout with Mr. E. Wiggin. Miss T. Maclay and Mr. Leon came for details on Saturday's activities, while Miss K. [ink smudge] came to share ideas. Miss K. [ink smudge] just came for sex. Double entendre was not planned, but left in anyway because I could.

Mr. A. Rand escaped from what we'll call a bad situation to be found by Miss M. Fel and Miss J. Harvelle, who got him to safety. Miss Fel also stumbled upon Mr. A. Lightwood, who'd been injured by a certain archer. Leon and Angelo were singing, which again, theme, as did a group in another warehouse. How were more people not drinking yesterday?

And by the way, Kenzi wants everyone to know that this weekend is a go. Confusion to the enemy! Be prepared to storm the Bastille! (Or the closest thing we've got to one.) Stock up on munitions!*

*That bit was not written by me.