There was dust here, layers of dirt coating the unused furniture, but some time ago, the dust melted away. The couches began to look new again. The kitchen cupboards replenished themselves and the plothole in the closet began spinning once more ( Read more... )

It's October 7th, and Arcadio's aware of the significance of this date. He's set up a small, tasteful table (ebony, minimalist, and artistic) with a black bowl filled with condoms, a small assortment of delicately-bottled personal lubricants, a few instructional cards, several boxes of tissues, and a small sign. Underneath the table, between its ( Read more... )

A slender young man walks in the door and pauses for a moment, looking around curiously. He is dressed in a well-tailored suit, although the cut would have been rather more stylish in the mid-1920s than the present day ( Read more... )

Well, it's been a while, hasn't it? Hypatia Fanshawe Hades is bored. Very bored. And this place has not had its regular dose of crack lately so what else would she do besides rectify that fact ( Read more... )

Grace Pendergast is standing near a table frosting a cake; the cake itself is a vanilla one, with cream cheese frosting, light blue accents and flower-shaped candy. It would almost look too pretty to eat were it not for the tantalizing fresh-baked smell that it's currently exuding ( Read more... )

Fashionably late, the last of the Maraloffski-Tabularasa crackspawn wanders in and throws himself down on a couch, lighting up a cigarette and looking around with a smirk. He's ruffled, lazy, sensual, and might as well be wearing a neon sign screaming "playboy!" Entirely pansexual, he will hit on just about anything and anyone that comes near.

( Read more... )

Well, he’s new, of course, and he doesn’t exactly know how it all goes. That’s obvious from the way he pounded on the door and searched for a bell before entering. The fact that he’s not particularly happy is obvious as well, if one listens to his sotto voce soliloquy as he approaches:

“… fuck fuck fuck fucking hell Sadie goddammit engine stall ( Read more... )

Juliette storms in like she owns the place, loud and clumsy, grinning at her surroundings like a wolf salivating at her prey. She remains in motion, inspecting the room in detail--advantages, disadvantages, escape points, threats. At last satisfied, she drops her duffel bag in the middle of the floor and sprawls inelegantly across a couch. "So. I'm ( Read more... )

Goldfish have memory spans of three seconds. Electra's always found this fascinating: she could take a goldfish out of water and watch it flop and gasp in her hand, drop it back into the bowl a second before it was about to die, and watch it recover, swimming up to her hand and giving it goldfish kisses less than ten seconds later ( Read more... )

After having an interesting confrontation with Ciaran, a certain Ryan Pendergast is now slightly exhausted and slightly unnerved, as pretty much anybody would be if their half-demonic half-brother who tortured their current girlfriend told them that their dead former girlfriend who they still love says hello from Hell. ...right. Anyway, the real ( Read more... )