Elizabeth Perry (watersword)

Elizabeth



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  1. Public Bookmark 21

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    Baldwin IV, the leper king of Jerusalem, is visited on his deathbed by a beautiful stranger who is oddly familiar to him.

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    20 Oct 2022

    Bookmarker's Notes

    His dying brain grasped towards an explanation. "You're one of those things," he said. "A ... a ..." Please God, let his memory not be going too.

    "An hallucination?" suggested the woman.

    "No," said Baldwin. "Well, yes. Obviously you're an hallucination, but I meant a metaphor." He looked up at her. At first he had thought she might be a Jewess, but now he thought she looked more like the Infidels from Syria. Yet she dressed and spoke like a noblewoman from a Christian court. "What's your name?" he asked.

    "You can call me Jerusalem."

  2. Public Bookmark 76

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    "Every day's your lucky day when you work for the LMD, Ray," Brad said blandly.

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    20 Oct 2022

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Nate stepped back to a polite distance before he peeled the glove--brown suede, casual, because it didn't matter what the hell he wore while his team went into the field without him--from his right hand. To his credit, Wright didn't actually back away.

    Nate didn't push immediately, stepping toward Walt first. Walt pushed up his sleeve and peeled back the glove on his left hand, exposing a couple of inches of bare skin for Nate to touch.

    Nate never let one of his teams out the door without working them. He'd done it hundreds of times by now, but he never let it be automatic, never gave it less than his full attention. He was a luck worker, and there were very few legitimate applications for his skill, but he could do this. He could make sure that when it came down to seconds of timing, the flip of a coin, the precise path of a bullet--when it came down to where the shadows fell, what the target noticed when he looked around, what kind of socks he was wearing--chance would fall on the side of his men.

  3. Public Bookmark 16

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    Fritz interviews a young man for the position of Mr. Wolfe's assistant.

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    19 Oct 2022

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Fritz thought that it would be good for Mr. Wolfe to have a companion, someone to help him with his work, yes, but also someone to sit with him at the table. It would not be proper for Fritz to sit with Mr. Wolfe at the table; in the kitchen perhaps, when they were working together on a dish, but not at the table. If Mr. Wolfe found the young man acceptable, then Fritz would be introduced and the candidate would be invited to have a bite of something in the kitchen so that Fritz could form his own opinion.

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    John has to give people the little things they need. It's a very awkward compulsion to have, especially when one lives in London, and his flat looks like several shops have exploded in it. He can use the supplies, though, and it's an interesting way to meet people, but then he starts running into the same bloke again and again. Coincidence? Or is fate trying to tell him something?

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    21 Aug 2022

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Fresh out of med school and with no particular idea what to do with his life – he'd wanted to join the army, but his father had asked what he was going to do if whoever was shooting at him needed more ammunition and, well, John hadn't been too keen to find out – London had seemed like the place to go.

  5. Public Bookmark 12

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    Before Peter, there was Philip. Harriet's life from the day she met Philip to the day Charles Parker paid a visit to ask her a few questions about his death.

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    26 Jul 2022

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    Bookmarker's Notes

    "This is Miss Vane, the reason we're all here."

    "Philip Boyes," said the friend, extending his hand, then starting to turn away almost before she finished shaking it. Harriet laughed, just as she realized – this was the Philip Boyes, the one who had written Abhasa and Mrs Bolton-Brown. Those books had made the rounds of half the undergraduates at Shrewsbury and Miss Mollison had been rather tiresome in her insistence that she understood them.

    "Is that how you treat a guest of honour?" she said.

    He glanced back at her. "How precisely should I treat a guest of honour? Should I throw roses at her as if she just won a bullfight?"

    "If you want to," she said, "But all I require is that you look at me for a moment."

    Philip Boyes, how do I hate thee, let me count the ways. STRAIGHT MEN ARE THE WOOOOORST.

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