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That was...well.
Julian left herFiona shuts the door to her rented garret, and locks it. Mary Anne had looked terrible, pale and shocked and Fiona had felt ( Read more... ) -
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Following this.
When Fiona wakes up, she has a brief moment of disorientation. This is what happens when she starts traveling again, she can never quite remember which motel or tavern she is in, which Shadow, whois in bed with her. That today would be Mary Anne. Another woman might have sat up and gone 'oh, shit', but not Fi ( Read more... ) -
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The door shuts behind her and Fiona falls to her knees. It's a beach at sunset, the sand cold against her fishnet-covered knees and the air around her cool. She drops the guitar-case and the bag, sits back on her feet and just stares up at the clouds. Not saying anything, not really moving, not doing except stare and trying to control her ragged, ( Read more... ) -
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Dearest Random,
Talked briefly with Ramon, he seems back to his normal, charming self. Although I am intrigued...any further ideas? He mentioned a wand. I was just wondering if you knew anything more about the Shadow the person who did came from; as far as I understand it, the Bar can supply anything, so why not a book?
~ Fiona -
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When Fiona walks out the door of Milliways she's in the same motel that she left before. Dark and seedy, with a failed jazz singer on the stage in yellowing silk dress. And suddenly it's too dark, too tame, and she has all this pent energy humming away with no avenue out.
warm lips soft lips clever sliding tongue under hersThere is thunder outside ( Read more... ) -
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Sometimes, it's hard to say goodbye ( Read more... ) -
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Fiona is not that far from the keep, really. Just enough for it to be out sight and out of mind, just enough to have walked and found a stream in a clearing. Just somewhere where she can sit and be alone outside of the library, just slip off her shoes and dangle her now perfectly fine feet in the cool water ( Read more... ) -
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There are many metaphors that can be used to describe reality, and all fall short. When Fiona chooses to try and describe what her mind instinctively knows, it's usually a metaphor of fabric. That is what reality is, a very fluid, tangled fabric fanning out from a stiffened center that her family could play with, could bunch and weave and merge ( Read more... ) -
OOC: Backstory
Fiona had never liked cats ( Read more... ) -
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Amberites do not hide. No, they do not, and Fiona would be highly insulted if anyone suggested that she was. No, what she is doing is Research. In the library. That she has only left to sleep and eat.
Just research, honey.