-
Anthony's classes (for my own reference)
History of Western Art-
Tony Dinozzo
Lucy Pevensie
Angela Montenegro (not officially signed up, but periodically crashing)
Julian Bell (sometimes crashing)
French-
Veronica Mars
Julian Bell -
Deceptively simple
It was a perfectly normal morning ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
[Continued from here.]There was something remarkably familiar about the sound of the three sets of feet Anthony heard approaching. It was a nothing of a sound, a simple crunch of underbrush and brush of dirt that was not in the least similar to the pounding of feet on pavement. But it was familiar all the same, and so Anthony got up and went to the ( Read more... ) -
And friendship is everything?
Anthony Blunt was sitting on the beach.
Anthony Blunt was sitting on the beach, leaning comfortably against a rock. He had a book in his lap, which he was idly reading from, a cigarette (a real cigarette) between his fingers. And he was looking inordinately pleased ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
It was a cool, quiet night, and Anthony was spending it at home, or at least what passed for home these days. As ever, he had a book in his hand, another art text. The shelf had been giving them quite freely lately, and Blunt was beginning to suspect that it was in some way in league with Ainsley, trying to convince him that holding a class was a ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
The bookshelf was extraordinarily clever. Wickedly so, Anthony would decide later ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
Anthony wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved when he awoke in his cave on the island on Monday morning. He wasn’t particularly surprised, certainly not as surprised as Kim had been when he had, out of nowhere, sat up and said, “Ah, you’re still here. Good ( Read more... ) -
for Kim
It took a couple days of waiting, but Guy finally decided to spend a night with Michael, leaving Anthony and Kim alone. Despite the fact that both Guy and Anthony had been delighted and relived to see their friend, conversation had been overly light to the point of awkwardness. There was too much hanging in the air between them, too much ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
Anthony wasn’t in the cave. He knew even before he had fully awoken. The air was too still, the bed beneath him too comfortable, and there was, far too close at hand, a rattle of pots and pans, sounds of a house (a very specific house) waking ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
Anthony’s expression was hard and dark as he left Brian on the beach. His fists were clenched - had they not been they would likely have been shaking. Guy was - God, if Brian bloody Kinney was to be believed (and Anthony was not yet convinced of that he was) he was hallucinating. Even the worst of what Guy had been back home had not reached that ( Read more... )