In the Kashtta, Annie Cartwright is playing the piano, some jazzy ragtime number. It's still a little hesitant - she hasn't played since university, and she's having trouble remembering bits, but she's smiling and clearly having fun.

In the coffee shop, Rose Tyler is hiding from another spurt of rain, nursing a drink that only tastes mostly like ( Read more... )

{{OOC: Backdated and wobbledy-dated to sometime mid/late Trickster Week}}

Time Agency Eletor 462O1/J, variously known as Jack Harkness, John Thane, and too many other identities and subidentities to make listing them convenient, is having kind of an odd week ( Read more... )

It's Thanksgiving, and people are celebrating in many different ways.

In the Gauche, Tay Barnam is not doing what she did last year. Amber had liked the whole potluck Thanksgiving thing they did last year, and Amber's gone now and things are... a lot different. She's a year older, and she'd like to think she's a little wiser than she was last ( Read more... )

A car loaded with teenagers pulls up in front of the Conrad. Finding parking in downtown Chicago is never easy, and Buffy is not willing to wait. She springs out of the car and races into the lobby - only to realize that while she knows the basement is where they keep the wanderers, she has no idea how to get there. Um.

The Doctor is wandering ( Read more... )

There is a redhead with a bookbag full of strange herbs and relics and her arms full of strange dusty tomes standing on a street corner somewhere in Chicago. She looks more than a little confused, and a little annoyed.

"That was supposed to be a guiding spell, not a teleportation spell!" she announces to the sky, and huffs a bit, looking around ( Read more... )