The sound of the heinously loud sirens is behind his voice, searing his eardrums. It had ripped him from his meditation in a horrible rush, bringing him face-first into the present day. He thanked god that he hadn't been memory-walking before peering out the window at the pea-soup fog.

It looks like New Orleans... That noise is awful, ugh.

He ( Read more... )

 I belatedly realize that I should not have tasted those unmarked candies. I have always told Constance never to accept anything not bearing a label, and of course, I failed to obey my own rules.

It was very... interesting... to have my slacks suddenly become ill-fitting; at least this tail isn't horribly ugly. And one can hope that it will fall ( Read more... )

 [Knee-high fog obscures the ground, swirling around the agent's legs, hiding his London-made shoes from site, hiding the ground. Cornsilk-hair is damp with the strange humidity that hovers above the thick fog, and it clings in mussed strands to his face. There are monuments, great concrete things adorned with angels- some with hands folded in ( Read more... )

 I am not quite sure where I am. I woke up here yesterday; it seems to be an apartment building in a foreign country. I tried walking down to the street, but it seems that either I am many floors higher than I initally thought, or there is something very odd about this place-- after thirty minutes of walking, I could not even find a door to another ( Read more... )