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[Lucrecia woke this morning to find she had been sleeping standing up. What's more her labcoat and usual attire have disappeared, replaced by some strange white dress. And her body! All these new scars and stretch marks. Except... they're old. A dim echo in her mind knows why. She finally founds a voice that creaks and groans like her vocal cords ( Read more... )

[Lucrecia is sitting in an out-of-the-way table at Sergei's with a random book on comparative interdimensional cosmology she hasn't even touched, and a bouquet of flowers from Deck 13, mostly bluebells, in a tall glass of water. There's a red strip of cloth, she's obsessively smoothing against the table at intervals as she stares off into space. It ( Read more... )

[Recovering from a swoon was always a singular experience for Lucrecia, and not one she enjoyed experiencing often. Unconsciousness response to a physiological reaction against internal or external stimuli was a peaceful, silent, sense-free void of darkness. Breathing was regular. Pulse, heartbeat were regular. Blood pressure tended to remain at an ( Read more... )