[Note: This is seriously backdated.]

It's dark. Dark and enveloping, in the same way that water is wet and drowning. It's no comfort, no help, because there's something profoundly wrong with it being dark ( Read more... )

Sheila's been spending a lot of time in 666 lately. The sort of time that's left her pleasantly dazed and smiling.

Unfortunately, she can't spend all of her time talking with Cheryl or cradled against Ash, so she's finally emerged, sporting one of the outfits she bought on her shopping spree with Fiona.

Fiona. She feels rather guilty for ( Read more... )

((Note: continues the next day from here))Fiona digs her keys out of her little hip bag as she walks down to Sheila's apartment to collect her for their appointment with the forger. Jane is discreet, professional, Fi thinks; she won't ask questions about Sheila's past or why she needs the papers, just as she didn't with Fiona's own replacement IDs ( Read more... )

It's been three weeks since Sheila's little misadventure with that bottle of tequila, and for the most part she's recovered her dignity. Everything else around her has fallen apart - the job search has led nowhere, she's nearly run out of the money Ash has loaned her, and her attempt at using a modern washing machine has turned the blue shirt Ash ( Read more... )

The second time Fiona wakes up back in the same apartment at Finley Towers, she's so pissed off that she could chew nails and spit lightning. And she badly needs a drink ( Read more... )

Sheila has a Cunning Plan: she's going to try to learn modern English by reading an Itallian-to-English translation guide (courtesy of Ash). The slang's sort of confusing, but Itallian, blessedly, hasn't changed much in the past few centuries, and she's started to catch on ( Read more... )