Xanadu, if it's a dream, is not like any dream that Ilde's ever had before ( Read more... )

Raylan's had a busy few weeks. Nothing very far out of the ordinary, just a lot of prisoners to transport, officials to protect, and even one fugitive to track down. He prefers work to a lack of it, to the surprise of no one who knows him, but it's meant he hasn't been in Xanadu terribly recently. Of course, there's only one person there, to his ( Read more... )

It has, before, occurred to Emmeline that it would be nice to visit the nexus sometime just to relax, rather than as an accident or an escape or (as now) a bit of both ( Read more... )

She's not terribly concerned by being somewhere she didn't intend to be. She's paranoid (by nurture), so she's definitely alert, but she's an X-man, this isn't really new. She's been to Limbo and Hell and various Nexii before. This one is almost familiar. At least, when she sniffs around--and she is, literally, sniffing around, like a dog--she can ( Read more... )

Though the world has changed, Remy is a creature of habit if he's allowed, so he still sticks to familiar haunts when he's able. Stigmata is a habit because it's a constant, even though it itself changes - sometimes there's things in there that aren't there the day before, or after ( Read more... )

Harvestman looks much more like his normal self - sleep deprived and jumpy, eyeing the shadows he himself keeps too with more care than he does people. His clothes are pretty much his usual fair - oversized, torn in places, and out of style by at least a decade. He's got his glass of blood that, strangely, he's drinking from using a straw ( Read more... )

When Harry had wandered out of his hotel that evening, he hadn't expected to end up anywhere other than L.A. As far as he knew, actually, he was still walking through the same city. There were several cheap lighters in his pockets, all taken from the gift shop in the hotel lobby, but they were all ignored in favor of a more used but hardier ( Read more... )

The kid comes into Stigmata from the rain like it's a second home (all bars are second homes to him), all quiet, alert confidence. He goes right up by the bar and pulls out a mobile, saying softly to whoever's on the other end, "Found it." And then: "It's safe ( Read more... )

Landing in the middle of a populated sort of area after spending the last week running for your life through Wales is not, overall, the worst thing that can happen--at worst, Melou figures, he will just keep running, and at best maybe he's lost his pursuers for a little while and maybe he can eat (it has been a week of living on berries and little ( Read more... )

There is a bar. And in that bar there is a man. He waits at a table with three empty chairs, nursing a beer that’s been warm for at least half an hour. The waitress comes and delivers-- at his insistence-- the very same order that has remained untouched for the past four nights: two bottles of beer and a glass of milk. She sets them on the table ( Read more... )