The end of the rain had come just in time to squeeze in a few long rehearsals before the big day. Cole had been running around like a fool all morning (with the help of Dairine), making sure that costumes were finished, the stage was set, seating was arranged, props were ready, the musicians had everything they needed... and on and on. Back home ( Read more... )

At this very moment, there was nothing in particular the pie maker and his faithful dog Digby had to do ( Read more... )

"Lizzy ( Read more... )

It was late in the day when Sacharissa left the office. There was more to work on some days than others, but if there had been a dearth of major events of late, there had also been several smaller incidents of interest. She liked to keep herself occupied either way. As was her custom, she headed next into the rec room to check the bookshelf for ( Read more... )

There were old sayings, teachings that Dee had long ago forgotten that she was certain applied to the situation she now found herself. Words of wisdom handed down from the gods themselves about looking for answers and only finding them when the road ahead became blind. The words of the Lords of Kobol always sounded like that and she was certain ( Read more... )

Starting just before he realised Cecilia was on the island, Robbie had begun a regimen of morning runs on the beach. He had been one of the few in basic training who had not minded the daily physical regimen, and after a little while on the island found that he missed it. The building crew and now the island task force kept him quite busy these ( Read more... )

It was a party Atia could be proud of. It was not Rome of course, not truly a Roman gathering. Yet, for this place and what she had to work with, it was stunning ( Read more... )

On the night of the shootout, Sacharissa and William run into Maladicta. The two are headed for the scene of the crime and Maladicta is on her way back, and while nothing goes wrong aloud precisely, it decidedly doesn't go well.

Backdated to August 4.

It was madness, utter madness, all across the island. Somewhere beneath the usual flurry of questions running through Sacharissa's mind was a keen sense of relief. She had escaped this time, thank gods. From the shouts and shrieks coming from all around, she seemed to be one of the lucky few who could make that claim ( Read more... )

Her dress is torn. To be frank, tattered would be a better word for it.

She doesn’t really care. Dresses are just bits cloth, no matter how they’re fashioned1. There’s a cigarette in her left hand and she sitting just a few feet from what she had, a few minutes earlier, stubbed her toe on in the sand ( Read more... )