Today Mark is walking up and down a snowy New York street, circa 1935 or so, knocking on doors. He's already heard from other transmissions that all of the worlds are empty, but he wants to verify it for himself. "This is the neighborhood where I grew up," he says, panning the camera over the unmarked sidewalk. "I've never seen it so empty."

Later ( Read more... )

He dreams of Cindy. Of course. He always dreams of Cindy. But this is the first time in a long while he’s heard her voice, and for a moment he’s is relieved that he still remembers. Another moment and he realizes she’s calling for him somewhere within that tower of roaring flames.

Slim, feminine hands press down on his shoulders, and now Amanda’s ( Read more... )

OOC: Backdating to the second because shhh.

"If it's convenient, could someone catch me up on...exactly what happened? What the rules were, so to speak? I. Um. Wasn't around very long."

( Text, locked to Terezi )

Today in Mark's office: A cracked mirror with the distorted message STAY.

Also Mark, who has obtained a crowbar from his closet. He leans on it as he speaks.

"All right, everyone. I know that some of us have been having trouble getting over to the mirror side and staying there. Their mirrors have been crossing and forcing them to switch back. Now. I ( Read more... )

Mark's camping out in the ballroom today, slouched in a folding chair with a book in his lap. On one of the floor-length mirrors, he's written the following message:

?ereht enoyna sI

.klat ot ekil d'I

From time to time he looks up, checking for a response. If he's going to sound mirrors out for cahoots, he wants to do it in person. (More or less.)

OOC: Backdated to Thursday.

Cue Mark once again awkwardly addressing the network. He's feeling low and could use a distraction, which means it's time for another informal census.

"'Afternoon, everyone. You might remember the last time I did this. I just. I wanted to ask--"
Shit, he can't do this. Not today. Shaking his head, he reaches and cuts the ( Read more... )

I should've known something was fishy when I came home to a dark apartment. Cindy waits up for me some nights--don't have the heart to scold her--and there's usually a light on.
But I wasn't thinking. If there were any prints on the doorknob I wiped them clean off coming in. Took my sweet time putting my piece away, too--by the time I thought to ( Read more... )

For those with a suspicious nature and knowledge of Mark Meltzer's habits, the main sign that there's been a switch is his complete absence from the network ( Read more... )

The wall cameras have once again caught Mark pacing, mug in hand. It's business as usual, except the office he's pacing isn't his own--it's less cluttered, with an ugly carpet instead of floorboards and a table covered in coffee paraphernalia where Mark's couch would be.

Eventually his pacing takes him to the mirror against the far wall, which ( Read more... )

Mark's somehow managed to sneak down to the ballroom unchallenged, armed only with a red marker and event booklet. He's had some success contacting people here before, so he's decided to try it again.

I need to talk to someone in charge. I have questions.

Message completed, he folds his arms behind his back and begins to pace. He eyes the mirror from ( Read more... )