Xanadu has become a refuge of sorts - a mental health retreat, if you will - during the war in the Deepmoor. Nuala comes to the nexus far less often than she once did, but she values her time here all the more; her new life is something that she's finally grateful for, now that she has something to dedicate it to, and these moments seem all the ( Read more... )

Good day, Xanadu. Prepare yourself for yet another what you see may not be what you get moment ( Read more... )

In about the time it takes to register that the door has opened, someone (coiled dark hair, pale smooth skin peppered with ash-grey freckles, dark eyes and a strong nose - tall and lithe, dressed in simple but tailored black) has already come through it. The man stands at the bar, touching it, looking around the room, even flickering a long, forked ( Read more... )

Josephine is as of yet unsure as to how this whole 'mysterious city one can be randomly transported to at any given moment, however inconvenient' situation works, exactly, but she knows that it's going to keep happening, so when she turns up with shopping bags from earlier and her clothes from a dance lesson still on (she'll miss teaching it when ( Read more... )