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Sujana

Keep Your Vices on Your Sleeves

  • Archive Re: Time for a Talk

    Cecilia Light! Light! Ah, how I both love and hate it. What is that beside you, dear?

    Mar 16, 2016
  • Archive Re: Time for a Talk

    Cecilia Something wrong, Miss Amy? You seem somewhat distressed. Now, we can't have any of that. Here, have some--*looks at empty pot of tea* Oh, well never mind that. I'll ...

    Mar 16, 2016
  • Archive Re: Time for a Talk

    Cecilia A pain in the neck isn't it? Some people just won't get along. *chuckles softly* In your case, ghosts are tricky business. If you can't threaten them with death, ...

    Mar 16, 2016
  • Archive Re: Time for a Talk

    Cecilia Now now, my dear Mercy, don't be anxious. I see that Rebecca isn't exactly the norm for your sort of relationships, which is fine on its own--do you have ...

    Mar 13, 2016
  • Archive Re: Time for a Talk

    Cecilia Oh, I'm fine as well, Ms. Mercy. Just got one of my henchmen out of prison, that was good. The cost was expensive, though. Let's hope he knows where ...

    Mar 13, 2016
  • Archive Re: Time for a Talk

    Cecilia Don't be afraid, Ms. Amy. None of us will hurt you. Probably. How's everyone doing this fine evening? Or morning. Or afternoon. Really doesn't matter too much to me.

    Mar 12, 2016
  • Archive Re: Time for a Talk

    Cecilia I heard we could all talk like civilized people here. I do miss a good chit chat. I've brought some tea with me, as well. *brings in a platter ...

    Mar 11, 2016
  • Archive Re: The misunderstood

    "I'm sorry, but is this the Home for the Misunderstood?" a feeble, hoarse voice piped up. A young woman of indiscernible age entered through the door, wearing a dark jacket ...

    Dec 13, 2015


It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats—the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill —The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it—and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another.
— JRR Tolkien