For the first time in six years, William Bush didn't feel out of place with his uniform coat draped about his shoulders. Not only did the solid, heavy wool keep out the London damp that had descended upon Tabula Rasa along with the scenery, British naval blue also fit perfectly the cobbled streets, and billowing smokestacks, and smokey pubs that ( Read more... )

This is, Tony thinks, perhaps what closure feels like. Two stitches and richly purpled bruises that throb with every heartbeat ( Read more... )

It's not even Chris's idea this time. It's Tony that comes to him, saying that there ought to be another party. And seeing as it's been months and months since Maxxie's birthday, Chris is all for it, even if it's not like they can go and just find a cave like last time. The island's bolloxed that all up by turning into fuckin' London ( Read more... )

It was all there open before him. Possibility. Change. The future. Oxford. Everything hung in the balance while he sat around waiting for the post. Dakin scuffed his foot absently at the floor, a bit upset when it didn't leave a mark. He wasn't planning on being at Cutler's for much longer, but it would still be nice to know that he had made ( Read more... )