The cups are sugared. The kettle is on the boil. On the table is a tin of decent biscuits (none of your cheap custard creams, thankyouverymuch). It's all been rather whirlwind and rather strange from what was once an arrangement between friends (admittedly with feelings for one another) and by a strange twist of fate it had propelled into something ( Read more... )

"You said you wanted to have a private discussion?"

Or should I say dead friends alternate teenage friends, my own alternate teenage selves and the sorry excuse for a creature who made me a werewolf in the first place.

I really don't know if I like this Nexus place all that much.