She has not come down, this woman known as Anath Dorje, since she had failed to save the life of the young man who had gotten her, however briefly, out of this place. There is anger, yes, and also a grim determination to be certain that she failed in only the one way ( Read more... )

((Very very OOM: A mission is undertaken. The objectives? Get two scientists safely out of the way, leave no witnesses to anyone aware of their involvement, steal top secret data obtained in very evil ways, let the two scientists trade it to their government for safety, and go back for drinks.

Tom rapidly realizes that Wesker's world sucks, and ( Read more... )

By the Window stands a tall, dark woman in a black gown. One fine-boned hand cups a mug of coffee, the other hangs loose to her side. She is watching the death of the universe, this woman known as Anath Dorje, and she smiles faintly at what she sees.

Captain Ryan spent last night in the woods. This turned out to be a Bad Idea. He’s down by the lake without a shirt now, muttering under his breath and it’s quite clear as to why. As Wells so eloquently put it once, it looks like he took on Jack the Ripper and came last.

In addition to the four dark long scars on his chest and the newer fading ( Read more... )

There is, by the Window, a tall and dark woman in black. She is watching. The Window, the room. She is watching, and there is the slightest of smiles on her lips. She calls herself Anath Dorje, it is what she is mostly likely called by those she watches for.

By half of those she watches for. The other half know her by another name.

Dead werewolf inna Bar!

Captain Ryan's people watching with a purpose. He's keeping an eye out for three people in particular, but if you happen to smell of gun oil he's probably interested in speaking with you, too.

There is a tall, dark woman standing with view of the Window. She watches the death of the universe, over and over. It is stunning. It is lovely. It is nearly enough for her to cease planning. Nearly.

A cup of coffee is held in one long-fingered, elegant hand.

She calls herself Anath Dorje. Not everyone else does. She calls herself Anath Dorje, and she calls herself a friend and reluctant as it may be to appear the note eventually arrives. She calls herself Anath Dorje, this tall and dark woman of white smile and black eyes, and after reading the note she exits the room once more. Exits, and returns ( Read more... )

Still bearing a peace-knotted sword at his hip, Rand sits down at the bar and orders a glass of mulled wine. Awkardly, he pulls two small maps out of a case and sets them on the bartop, using the glass to hold down one corner while his stump of a hand holds down the other. Finally, he pulls out a small journal and opens it, followed by ink and a ( Read more... )

She is watching the universe end. She spends most of her time doing so, and it pleases her. Even the window in her room shows the death of all things, which is why she feels no need to venture into the rest of the bar most days.

She is watching the universe end, this woman who calls herself Anath Dorje, coffee in hand and a pleased smile on her