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(Untitled)
The early years of her life aside, Layla hadn't spent much time wrapped up in luxury. She'd gone from orphanage to what was effectively the team's Bowery barracks to run-down, borderline post-apocalyptic ruins. The island wasn't bad, although real mattresses, couches, pretty much anything from Pottery Barn would have been nice. As much as she ( Read more... ) -
State of the Pups
Yeah, this is happening. First time for everything right? Okay.
Layla Miller will be bringing Jamie along on her homeplot to sunny LATVERIA. As ever, I am going to try to delve into her cannon and psyche without getting the shit Jossed out of me by the end of it. So far I have done remarkably well, but this luck cannot last forever. Also, Layla ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
Layla awoke to the curious sensation of knowing it was Christmas Morning, and not being consumed with a hollow, distant loathing. As it happened, she felt well rested and sort of happy. She was no stranger to feeling pleased, or smug, or even satisfied with events played appropriately out, particularly when she was the cause. A feeling of general ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
Layla couldn't say she was worried by the sound of Jamie having a conversation with Richards. Everyone needed a sounding board. This sounded particularly purposeful, though, and not the usual 'I can't believe you chewed up/peed on/hid that' exchange. She walked into the hut, ponytail swinging where it was tied low between her shoulder blades- she ( Read more... ) -
The Calm After the Storm
Layla had woken up with no Jamie beside her, and for a moment felt a queer sort of panic that made her question her sanity more than the island usually did. After a moment, during which time Richards had slunk up the bed to tuck his wet nose against her jaw and wag his tail a little, she recalled that she had been up, earlier, to let the dog in, ( Read more... ) -
Here's to Another Year
Layla had found herself suddenly grateful for her excess of time on the island. It allowed her, two days before the fact, to pull together a fairly elaborate mystery starting with an unsigned missive in a mail box in the morning. It lead the protagonist on a lengthy trail across the island's various locals, forced said protagonist to interact with ( Read more... ) -
[for Jamie]
There were things about the island that Layla had come to enjoy. They were little things, but they kept some fraction of her curiosity sated, so she had to appreciate them. Resenting how little of her time and energy they took up didn't help anyone. The bookshelf had books that were published in universes not her own, and they were frequently ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
Even with how long the walk back to the house is, I'm still tipsy when we get there. Not drunk- I can walk a straight line and recite the alphabet backward, but I would probably find it way more amusing than under normal circumstances. I'm at least glad I wore sneakers instead of real heels. It probably made things easier than I realize. But again ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
Layla was on the porch, sitting cross legged and straight backed in the chair, reading a travel book in Portuguese. She looked totally at ease and pleased with life. This was because for the first time in a long time, she knew something someone else didn't know, that actually applied to the island.
It felt good.
