[Manuel, Marie] I don't claim to be guilty.

[x-rogue.livejournal.com]

Marie crosses paths with Manuel, midday on Saturday, and takes him to the kitchen to feed him. An extensive conversation about Manuel's past attempts to help others and his present situation ensues.

( Guilty's too grand. )

Log: Amanda and Sarah - Saturday night.

[xp_daytripper]

During the clubbing night in Brighton, set just after this post.

( Attack of the Killer Fanboys. )

Jono, Amanda - Brighton clubbing log

[xp_daytripper]

Set before the second of these logs - Amanda and Jono talk about how no-one takes them seriously and the nature of magic. It doesn't end with hugs and puppies, but there is a little more understanding on both sides.

( The Fucking Prince of Darkness and the WytchBrat. )

Log: Romany, Amanda and Shinobi - Sunday afternoon

[xp_daytripper]

Having delivered Amanda back to Homily's House after the weekend in Brighton, Shinobi has a short but intense talk with Romany and learns some things about Amanda he hadn't realised.

Again, thanks for Alasdaire for the character beta.



( Sort-of Parent meets Sort-Of Teacher... )

Seek and Ye Shall Receive

[x-psylocke.livejournal.com]

Alison and Betsy

Alison visits the medlabs Sunday night. Hoping for contact with her friend before she leaves. And she gets it, not the happiest of encounters, but it is something.

( Breaking Walls )

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(no subject)

[x-marrow.livejournal.com]

Angelo gets Sarah drunk (well, not exactly..) and then Shinobi wanders over to the bar. They talk about Jono and attracting attention, and Shinobi is the responsible one.

( Clubbing in Brighton )

Manuel, Nathan, Saturday afternoon: The Subtle Power of Allegory

[x-cable.livejournal.com]

( Are you normally this dense? )

Letter to Ms. Braddock

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Slipped under Betsy's door in the medlab sometime Sunday night.

Scott held the envelope in his hands, turning it over and over. It was sealed, he couldn't change anything without opening it up, and getting another envelope. Which would be a waste, because he wouldn't change a single word of it.

He walked down the hallway and paused outside her door. He wasn't wanted, or so it seemed. He flipped the envelope over once more, examining the handwriting. Wondering if he should have written her nickname, or her full name, or even left it blank.

But in the end, he knew it was the right choice. A soft sigh, a grim smile, and he slid the envelope under her door.

Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and left the cold corridor.

( The envelope simply read - Elisabeth )