Butterfly chasing, anyone? Action => various NV functions, probably voice.

[where_the_hearth_is]

[Starting midday on Thursday, all over the island, people will start to see gleaming, iridescent butterflies like the one in the icon. Their wings reflect light, scattering little rainbows as they fly. They don't swarm, nor are they attracted to flowers or bright colors, or otherwise behave like natural butterflies. In fact, anyone who pays attention will realize they seem to be exploring and canvassing the city in an organized pattern as House methodically searches for Mary. Despite being directed by the House's intelligence, they can be caught easily enough with most powers or good old-fashioned butterfly nets, and close examination will reveal them to be synthetic: sleek, lightweight little machines, with laser-thin photoreceptive carbon wings and little legs for clinging to perches. At this point, the butterfly is likely to snap a picture of their face, which House will run against network posts until it has a number, and will call to politely ask for the butterfly's release.]

[OOC: Feel free to write out butterfly-chasing action in either prose or comment spam, whatever you like. Doubling up/threadjacking/multiple muses chasing one butterfly are cool too. Equally open to kids or young at heart who want some harmless fun, or to schemey types who want to examine/steal House's tech, or anyone who just wants an IC excuse to talk to the House. If there might be any problem with House figuring out the NV of the captor to make contact, let me know.]

Comments

[makeflowersgrow]

She follows after it, still laughing. For once, she gives into her childish side, and giggles as she gives chase, bare feet padding along the ground. She's not figured that it's not real yet, and though she doesn't expect to, she'd love to be able to catch it and stroke it - hold in her hand, for just a second, something of pure beauty and elegance.

"Come down. Oh please, come down."

[where_the_hearth_is]

It flits from perch to perch, pausing, wings tilting carefully back and forth. After Eponine has chased it for a section of street, it catches a stray breeze, coming to rest right on her outstretched fingers.