[BECAUSE THERE HAVEN'T BEEN ENOUGH PUPPIES YET, Misaki appears on the plane looking panicked and clasping a bleeding mutt against her chest. It's obviously very young--not even old enough to be away from its mother, really--sand-colored with white socks and vaguely foxy-looking. Misaki's bruised and her clothes are ripped. The dog doesn't seem to be moving.]

Can someone help me? Please!

[Toph is at the beach! Her pants are rolled up to her knees so she doesn't get them wet and she's standing just at the edge of the water, waves splashing over her feet. She's in a sturdy earthbending stance with her eyes closed, her toes sinking into wet sand.]

[Then she moves one foot outward, jerks her elbows back, then thrusts her hands out, palms down. She makes a violent downward motion. A patch of sand in front of her ripples and shifts but then settles again. She stands up straight and puts her hands on her hips with a sigh.]

Still no good, but I'm getting there.

[Have a Crowley, crouched down on a stretch of sidewalk. Nearby are a couple of wrought-iron tables and chairs that look as though they might belong to an outdoor café somewhere in Europe, London or Paris perhaps. One of the tables has an iced latté on it.

Crowley himself is, as mentioned, crouched down on the sidewalk nearby with a small tube of superglue in one hand and a large silver coin in the other. There's a similar coin laying on the sidewalk nearby. He applies a bit of glue to one side of the coin in his hand, grinning.]

Well, what do you know. This place comes in handy after all.

[Enter Henrietta, looking very confused and holding a doorknob. And, well, the door, which is splintered around the hinges and the knob's setting. She rubs at her ear, looks at the doorknob then out at the plane. Rubs her eyes, repeats the process. Finally she stares at the door.]

I should put this somewhere.



[[Good Signore Crowley convinced Henrietta to try espresso. She is not supposed to have high concentrations of caffeine. Why? Because it makes her strength, super-hearing and enhanced sight impossible to regulate. So right now? She can see five times farther than normal, hear five times better than normal, and is strong enough to lift the end of a small car and can't stop herself from being so. HAVE FUN.]]

[Willow appears on the Plane, looking very disgruntled. And bloody. Only some of it is her own, though. She takes a few steps in before flopping on the ground and laying on her back, staring at the Plane's sky. Not tired physically, but emotionally.

After a few moments, she sits up Indian style, tilting her head and looking at her ruined clothes, not seeming to care about the blood in her hair and on her face from wounds that have already healed.]

Anyone know a good dry cleaner? I mean, a really good one? I could always count this dress off as a loss, but darn if I hadn't finally got it to fit just right. Also, despite my hair, I really don't think red's my color.

I prefer green. Or blue. Blue's nice...

... I hate surprise attacks. Really.