<<<{ Midwife to a People}>>>

She couldn't hold anymore; not even with some of the knowledge held in other minds. She just couldn't. She'd taken care of everything she could remember. Her room, her belongings, all with Suzi's help as she slowly lost touch with herself ( Read more... )

The far side of the mountain was still and cool in the early morning mist. Quiet, though the mist writhed and coiled away from the burning woman vaguely perched on a rocky outcropping. Vaguely because her edges...blurred. She slipped in and out of definition, just like the tree in front of her ( Read more... )

The door opened and a very odd couple drifted in. Truly drifted, Rachel's feet weren't on the floor, and the tree that was curled about her seemed delighted by the piggy-back ride ( Read more... )

She hadn't been in Bar for a very long time. Her time now, when she noticed it, was spent out in the woods, cataloging the organisms, their structures, how life, even in micro, worked. It was a lot of information to process; tiring at times...but she managed ( Read more... )

Axel is sitting by the fire.

Very, very close.

Almost 'in.'

He's in a very bad place right now.

((ooc: plot-locked, sorry.))

Fakir enters the bar in quite a hurry, slamming the door shut behind him and leaning his weight against it to keep it closed for a moment until he is absolutely certain it is safe.

Attempting to hide his distressed expression, he straightens, sets his chin, and strides over to the bar to get tea.

Nonchalant, nothing to see here.

So, Milliways was being...interesting...again. She'd spent a good portion of the day before reassuring Suzi. Today, Rachel was in the Bar proper.

And she was highly amused.

She was just glad she hadn't ended up in a dress really. She liked seeing her feet thank you very much.

There was a woman at the Bar, legs sprawled gracefully across three stools and her elbow propped on the polished wood. Near at hand was a cut crystal glass with something red that smelled of cherries. More importantly, in her lap, her free hand occasionally flipping pages, were stacks of printouts ( Read more... )

Considering that it's the bloody full moon, Spoon is doing good. Really good. Ace said yes, Cora is smug, Spoon is smug, Cora has taken over wedding planning like only a six-year-old can manage, and Wells and Annie are pleased. All is well in that part of the world which matters to Spoon ( Read more... )