The bookshelf was being particularly annoying today. Pre-Raphaelite art annoying. A sub-category of annoyance that Guy had been spared of until now. There was nothing on that shelf wasn't Pre-Raphaelite. Their history, their development, the names and masterpieces, even a few copies of the journal. All from that self-named and self-acclaimed ( Read more... )

Today, as the bookshelf had apparently decided, it was a day for newspapers. Guy couldn’t say he minded it much. If anything, no one would look at him in sheer horror if he burned them to start a fire. The burning of information is apparently not as horrid as the burning of fiction ( Read more... )

Guy knew caution was needed. It wasn’t something he often did, or often admitted to do purposefully, but he felt sorry for the younger man. And pissed off at the Island for dropping a bloody trench on him. A trench! Straight from the battling lines, including even the stench and dead bodies. It was the lowest thing he had seen the island do to ( Read more... )

It really didn’t start as a wistful walk down memory lane. And even now, while he was looking at the pictures (pictures he had seen a hundred times before, smiling at intervals, he felt nostalgia, but in a distant sense. As though the events displayed on them had not occurred two years ago, but two decades ( Read more... )

It wasn’t long before Guy happily arrived to the door of the basement, the make-shift radio station. He greeted the Doctor and they both sat down, after which Guy lit a cigarette, offered one to the Doctor and switched on the system. The interview started without program and without further ado ( Read more... )

They had picked something up to eat and had eaten it at the cave. Two plates and two empty wine glasses were evidence of the fact. What had been in the glasses, by the by, was a novel and rather peculiar sort of wine ( Read more... )

Belize looked down at Guy's wrist. He noticed there wasn't anything there. "Do you still have it?"

Guy looked at his wrist and shrugged. Surely Belize hadn't expected the bracelet to still be there. "I don't like flowers."

"You got rid of it?" He glared.

Guy ignored the glare - there was nothing to glare at. "What? You thought I was going to keep ( Read more... )

“But, I get a kick out of youuu…” Guy sang as he approached the table he had by now fondly nicknamed the Abdominal Drinks Table. Anthony had done quite well, and Guy was truly having fun. More specifically, he was drunk. But cheerfully drunk, which was a novelty in recent times.

The ADT in sight, Guy pondered what to have as he hummed the next

He was drunk, he had lost count on which cigarette he was on, and he was decidedly not letting the piercing sensation behind his eyes win. With no nail left to bit, he had started on a patch of dead skin at the tip of his thumb. He was looking at a page in a book, but had long left his attention to the words afloat.

Getting his mind off of things ( Read more... )