May. 2nd, 2012

[identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com
link to chapter 29: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/50788.html
_
____________________________________________________

Moskva School No. 7 was clean and well organized. The students were mostly boys, and all intelligent, not like the mindless hoodlums and delinquents that filled the Orphanage. Here there were some who were Illya’s equal intellectually and a few, but not many who were superior.

He made acquaintances, though none he dared called friend. Grigory, Anton and Leonid were in his classes and sometimes he was included in their activities, mainly because they needed a fourth person.

The food was plentiful here, allowing young Illya Kuryakin to go about the business of learning without suffering the pangs of hunger.


[identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com
link to chapter 29: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/50788.html
_
____________________________________________________

Moskva School No. 7 was clean and well organized. The students were mostly boys, and all intelligent, not like the mindless hoodlums and delinquents that filled the Orphanage. Here there were some who were Illya’s equal intellectually and a few, but not many who were superior.

He made acquaintances, though none he dared called friend. Grigory, Anton and Leonid were in his classes and sometimes he was included in their activities, mainly because they needed a fourth person.

The food was plentiful here, allowing young Illya Kuryakin to go about the business of learning without suffering the pangs of hunger.


[identity profile] jkkitty.livejournal.com
Even something as common as hair, their view points differ.
Read more... )


 

[identity profile] jkkitty.livejournal.com
Even something as common as hair, their view points differ.
Read more... )


 

[identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com
Inspired by a little art imitating life...
_______________________________

“Will you please stop moving!” Illya barked at his partner.

I’m not moving, it’s all in your head, Napoleon replied calmly.

Illya reached out grabbing the wall steadying himself. “It feels like my brain is caught in the middle of a game of table tennis.”

“It’s vertigo, sit and let it subside.”

Illya turned his back to the wall, letting himself slide down it to the floor with a groan.

“You’re not going to get sick are you? I have new shoes.”

If looks could kill, the one that Illya flashed was deadly, yet he smirked at his partners vanity.

[identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com
Inspired by a little art imitating life...
_______________________________

“Will you please stop moving!” Illya barked at his partner.

I’m not moving, it’s all in your head, Napoleon replied calmly.

Illya reached out grabbing the wall steadying himself. “It feels like my brain is caught in the middle of a game of table tennis.”

“It’s vertigo, sit and let it subside.”

Illya turned his back to the wall, letting himself slide down it to the floor with a groan.

“You’re not going to get sick are you? I have new shoes.”

If looks could kill, the one that Illya flashed was deadly, yet he smirked at his partners vanity.

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