The Fortress, Sarah's London, Sunday Afternoon

As soon as everyone had been re-coloured last night, Sarah had fled the island. Look, she'd been a teenager, then gotten in a more lasting than usual fight with Guy, and then been turned into some picture of monochrome perfection and convinced him he was going to be a dad. (How easy their couple of handwavy days together monochromized had been didn't even need to be discussed, okay.) She would've run away for less, so she'd been London-bound immediately after her head cleared. And since her own flat in London had a renter in it these days, she'd shown up on Don's doorstep in the middle of the night and crashed on his couch, wrapped up in what he promised was his cleanest blanket, even if that maybe wasn't saying much.

And then they'd headed out to the Fortress as soon as it had opened for the day. And this was home, this was, or as close to one as she'd had in the last... who knew how many years? You could trust the Fortress to stay the same. The bouncer had changed, sure, but the new one was as much of a stupid prick, and everything else was the same as ever. Norse Dave behind the bar, her friends in their usual booth, Devlin being as much a disgusting pig as he always was...

( Yes this goes behind a cut because Devlin is gross. )

[ooc: NFB, but open, sure! Entertaining myself on the train back home. Warning for some NSFW dialogue because it's No Heroics, that's why.]