In a clear stretch of lawn outside Milliways' back door, three figures fade into sightOne is River Tam, disheveled and only slightly blood-streaked, with guns on her hips and one arm looped around Galadan's waist
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[OOM: In my beginning is my end, or: It's not so much teaching an old wolf new tricks as it is keeping the young from being on the receiving end of the old ones.
(Okay, maybe there are some new tricks. Damn Edwardian England, anyway.)]
For once, Mary's not poring over her own world's history as she sips at her tea. Instead, she's shuffling through a few densely-detailed sheets of paper, and frowning
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Mary's studying languages tonight, which means there's a lot of muttered German coming from a table in the corner.
It's an unfortunate fact that no matter how often she repeats a sentence, or how correct her grammer is, her accent stubbornly fails to conform itself to 'native German speaker' and continues to quite clearly convey 'British
Today, Tavi is at a table, with lemonade and crackers and cheese and fruit next to him--a perfect summer snack. There's an open book in front of him, and several pieces of paper with notes underneath and next to him, with pen and ink accessible. There's also a stack of books just out of reach. Anyone who looks will note the strange assortment of
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