Dove

Lottie was not a delivery girl. She was a written and published romance author. She was just doing Primrose a favor by helping him out and in turn she was getting something. Guess she should be grateful that this time she wasn't digging around in dirt or being lectured. Now that she thought about it. Lottie paused mid-step looking around. She had never been in this area before? Or maybe she had? It looked vaguely familiar, but she didn't often waste her time just wandering around rando...

    Yukio takes a deep breath as he stands amidst one of the embassy gardens. He’s found himself coming here more often as of late, to try and get a better idea of how the cherubuns lived where they used to… He may not get along with some but he’s still friends with a few and besides… He’s trying to be better at interacting with others and the cherubuns are no different. Even if one in particular he hates with a passion… “I truly didn’t think y...

"Y'know, I don't know why you brought us here." Damon feels a sigh rise from his chest as Ignition shuffles and sways next to him, moving towards the Church of Sulfur. They were far from the only ones heading there, Many had been touched by the church, Many had been touched by father Oleander, In the various ways the word touched could be used, anyway. Damon is an older bun, this much is clear, and the stresses of some of his life have made him appear as such. It was a persona...

“And… here!”   Dove stabs the shovel into the ground, glancing at the bored bun trailing behind, lugging a basket full of seed packets around with him.   “Why do I have to do this? Why not ask one of the other cherubuns or something?” Charlie groans, dropping the b...

Dark clouds hung over the cavernous ceiling, drawing a gloomy overcast for the day of Oleander’s funeral. Solemnity permeated the air, clinging to any bun that made their way to the Church of Sulfur to attend the service. Given the weather, many were advised to bring hats or umbrellas in the event of rain, only furthering the melancholy of everyone around. Buns trickled into the church, filling up rows and rows of pews until there was an overflow and the Churc...

Billie had just spent an hour hanging out at Jackal’s apartment, sprawling on the battered sofa while they blasted punk music and talked trash about the idiots they’d seen around Burrowgatory that day. For once, Billie had felt like her usual edgy mood was at home—no fluff, no frills, just raw honesty with someone who got her. But when she went to raid Jackal’s kitchen, a sweet, almost too-sweet scent hit her ...

Morgaine was exhausted. That wasn’t unusual for this time of year; pretty much everyone expected to wake up the morning after All Sinners’ Day hungover, sore, tired, and possibly in an unfamiliar location without some of the clothes they had been wearing the night before. He’d probably spent more time drinking with customers tha...