![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Aug. 28th, 2012
Lightning Moon
Aug. 28th, 2012 12:17 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
threecee.livejournal.com
The slight man in black wove his way between the trees and undergrowth assisted by light from the full moon filtering through the trees. His body ached with fatigue and the tension of trying to combine silence with haste. The enemy was close behind. He still wasn't certain how many there were, but he had recognized one of them: a top enemy agent, cunning and ruthless. They had been following him since the ambush at the first rendezvous point. He had barely escaped and now his only goal was to survive long enough to get the information to the backup contact.
( Read more... )
Lightning Moon
Aug. 28th, 2012 12:17 pmthreecee.livejournal.comThe slight man in black wove his way between the trees and undergrowth assisted by light from the full moon filtering through the trees. His body ached with fatigue and the tension of trying to combine silence with haste. The enemy was close behind. He still wasn't certain how many there were, but he had recognized one of them: a top enemy agent, cunning and ruthless. They had been following him since the ambush at the first rendezvous point. He had barely escaped and now his only goal was to survive long enough to get the information to the backup contact.
( Read more... )
mrua7.livejournal.com
It was a hot, sultry night. Too hot to sleep in his stuffy little apartment. The windows wide open did little good, as there was no breeze, just humid air hanging over him like a clinging wet blanket. He’d taken several cold showers, but the comfort they brought him was short lived.
He walked out into the night as he’d done so many times before during this heat wave, seeking solace in the streets, finding a bar that had air conditioning and hopefully some good music. Once or twice he met a woman and went home with her, or to an air conditioned hotel.
Tonight he wanted none of that, as he yearned for a peace the concrete city did not offer, he wanted to escape the noise and the ever present lights, there was only one place he could find that nearby for that...Central Park.
( Read more... )
mrua7.livejournal.comIt was a hot, sultry night. Too hot to sleep in his stuffy little apartment. The windows wide open did little good, as there was no breeze, just humid air hanging over him like a clinging wet blanket. He’d taken several cold showers, but the comfort they brought him was short lived.
He walked out into the night as he’d done so many times before during this heat wave, seeking solace in the streets, finding a bar that had air conditioning and hopefully some good music. Once or twice he met a woman and went home with her, or to an air conditioned hotel.
Tonight he wanted none of that, as he yearned for a peace the concrete city did not offer, he wanted to escape the noise and the ever present lights, there was only one place he could find that nearby for that...Central Park.
( Read more... )
As the Moon Looked Down
Aug. 28th, 2012 01:49 pmavirra.livejournal.comIt took Napoleon longer than he liked just to be able to turn over. When he did, all there was to see above him was the moon, clouds slowly drifting past. He didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious at the bottom of this old cistern. As it looked down on him, the moon wasn’t providing any answers. Not that he expected any from it. The orb above him looked cold and dead. As he would soon be himself, most likely.
Even though he already knew he wouldn't make it out under his own power, Napoleon’s eyes still were taking in his predicament and accessing. No holds he could see on the rounded surface beyond fingertip holds. Which his broken arm would not allow him to utilize. Sixteen, maybe twenty feet to the top. Might as well be twenty miles.
Shaking his head caused nausea and confirmed to his own mind that yes, he had a concussion. But he was numb to that for the most part. There was a deeper wound that had his mind in turmoil. His partner was dead.
It made the air feel colder as he remembered what had happened. They'd been forced off the road and collided with a tree that was none too soft. He'd been semi-conscious at best when they'd drug him from the vehicle. The last sight he'd had of Illya was of blood running down his face. Dead men don't bleed, so that told him that Illya was alive. But not for much longer.
The THRUSH agents had put their wrecked vehicle into neutral, shoved it back from the tree and then sent it rolling down the hill toward the dark lake below. They twisted his arm until it broke to force him to watch as the car containing his unconscious partner hit the water, staying on the surface briefly before sinking.
Afterwards, the questioning session really did not go the way that the THRUSH agents had wanted it to. Napoleon was already fully aware that they intended to kill him. There was no incentive for him to tell them anything at all. Not that he would have anyway, of course. When they tired of him, they'd tossed him here with the opinion that he'd be more agreeable come morning. Which only went to show that they didn't know him very well.
He continued to watch the clouds as they occasionally blotted out the moon and had almost drifted back to unconsciousness when noise began to reach him. Gunshots. Yelling. An explosion. Screaming. A few more gunshots. Then? Silence. Well, there was the distant sound of something burning, but nothing more.
Something caught the corner of his eye and he turned his head to see a coil of rope hit bottom. Then his view of the moon was partially obstructed as a figure began using the rope to climb down into the cistern. The figure looked unearthly, covered in mud and other substances perhaps best not looked at too closely. It was not until the figure turned and their eyes met that he knew who it was.
"You're dead."
Illya paused and considered that before answering.
"There is that possibility. If so, we are dead together then since you are talking with me. Now, would you prefer to be dead by yourself here or come along with me and be dead elsewhere?"
"Elsewhere."
"Very good. This will take awhile. My condition is not a great deal better than your own."
“All that noise up there. That was you?”
“A good part of it. I managed to find a car whose owner will no longer have need of it.”
“Dead and driving. Is that legal?”
“If it is not, how will they punish me?”
“Good point. So – are you going to be driving us to Heaven, Hell or Purgatory?”
“I am not certain. I suppose Mister Waverly will tell us which way to go.”
Illya’s face quirked into a small grin as Napoleon started to laugh. While his partner fashioned a rough harness to lift him put with, Napoleon looked back to the moon again. Odd. It no longer seemed as cold and dead as it looked down on them. Or maybe that was just him.
-------
(For those that follow my drab series 'Is There a Russian Word for Drabble?', this is a companion to Drabble #102, 'Left for Dead')
As the Moon Looked Down
Aug. 28th, 2012 01:49 pmavirra.livejournal.comIt took Napoleon longer than he liked just to be able to turn over. When he did, all there was to see above him was the moon, clouds slowly drifting past. He didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious at the bottom of this old cistern. As it looked down on him, the moon wasn’t providing any answers. Not that he expected any from it. The orb above him looked cold and dead. As he would soon be himself, most likely.
Even though he already knew he wouldn't make it out under his own power, Napoleon’s eyes still were taking in his predicament and accessing. No holds he could see on the rounded surface beyond fingertip holds. Which his broken arm would not allow him to utilize. Sixteen, maybe twenty feet to the top. Might as well be twenty miles.
Shaking his head caused nausea and confirmed to his own mind that yes, he had a concussion. But he was numb to that for the most part. There was a deeper wound that had his mind in turmoil. His partner was dead.
It made the air feel colder as he remembered what had happened. They'd been forced off the road and collided with a tree that was none too soft. He'd been semi-conscious at best when they'd drug him from the vehicle. The last sight he'd had of Illya was of blood running down his face. Dead men don't bleed, so that told him that Illya was alive. But not for much longer.
The THRUSH agents had put their wrecked vehicle into neutral, shoved it back from the tree and then sent it rolling down the hill toward the dark lake below. They twisted his arm until it broke to force him to watch as the car containing his unconscious partner hit the water, staying on the surface briefly before sinking.
Afterwards, the questioning session really did not go the way that the THRUSH agents had wanted it to. Napoleon was already fully aware that they intended to kill him. There was no incentive for him to tell them anything at all. Not that he would have anyway, of course. When they tired of him, they'd tossed him here with the opinion that he'd be more agreeable come morning. Which only went to show that they didn't know him very well.
He continued to watch the clouds as they occasionally blotted out the moon and had almost drifted back to unconsciousness when noise began to reach him. Gunshots. Yelling. An explosion. Screaming. A few more gunshots. Then? Silence. Well, there was the distant sound of something burning, but nothing more.
Something caught the corner of his eye and he turned his head to see a coil of rope hit bottom. Then his view of the moon was partially obstructed as a figure began using the rope to climb down into the cistern. The figure looked unearthly, covered in mud and other substances perhaps best not looked at too closely. It was not until the figure turned and their eyes met that he knew who it was.
"You're dead."
Illya paused and considered that before answering.
"There is that possibility. If so, we are dead together then since you are talking with me. Now, would you prefer to be dead by yourself here or come along with me and be dead elsewhere?"
"Elsewhere."
"Very good. This will take awhile. My condition is not a great deal better than your own."
“All that noise up there. That was you?”
“A good part of it. I managed to find a car whose owner will no longer have need of it.”
“Dead and driving. Is that legal?”
“If it is not, how will they punish me?”
“Good point. So – are you going to be driving us to Heaven, Hell or Purgatory?”
“I am not certain. I suppose Mister Waverly will tell us which way to go.”
Illya’s face quirked into a small grin as Napoleon started to laugh. While his partner fashioned a rough harness to lift him put with, Napoleon looked back to the moon again. Odd. It no longer seemed as cold and dead as it looked down on them. Or maybe that was just him.
-------
(For those that follow my drab series 'Is There a Russian Word for Drabble?', this is a companion to Drabble #102, 'Left for Dead')
Picture Challenge 8/28--Moon
Aug. 28th, 2012 02:09 pmjkkitty.livejournal.com
The Moon Lights the Way
Napoleon moved through the jungle, vines and branches slapping at his face. Illya had been taken prisoner when their assignment had gone wrong. Before he could rescue him, he had escaped into the surrounding wilderness.
When the American had caught up with the men who had taken him, they had laughed and told him not to even bother, as the Russian had been shot and probably had bled to death if the wild animals hadn’t killed him outright. Their laughter ended as he had shot them. His only regret is that he had only sleep darts in his gun.
The traces of blood led deep into the jungle. As he followed the trail with a small flashlight shining in the blackness, he could see evidence of Illya’s weakening condition. Branches broken, underbrush flattened from where he had fallen, and blood, so much blood.
The path began to climb up a ridge, becoming more dangerous in the dark. Loose rocks slipped under his steps causing him to fall frequently, yet Napoleon wouldn’t stop. His partner was in trouble and alone somewhere up ahead.
As he reached the top of the ridge, the dark covering of clouds slowly parted allowing the moon to peek through them. The moonlight began to shine on the bare rocks of the summit and highlighted a golden head of hair. He had found his partner.
Hurry to him, he quickly checked over the man. The dressing the Russian had applied was soaked with blood. Napoleon ripped his silk shirt in strips reapplying the bandages in the brightening moonlight.
“Illya answer me.” He pleaded when he was unable to arouse the down agent.
Opening his eyes slowly, Illya saw the moonlight illuminating Napoleon’s face. He smiled then moaned.
“You are late my friend, but I knew you would find me,” he said as he closed his eyes once more in the safety of his partner’s arms.
While waiting for the evacuation team, Illya leaned against Napoleon. The lullaby from the crickets and birds lulled the two exhausted men to sleep. The moonlight shining on their faces revealed the safety they felt with each other.
Picture Challenge 8/28--Moon
Aug. 28th, 2012 02:09 pmjkkitty.livejournal.comThe Moon Lights the Way
Napoleon moved through the jungle, vines and branches slapping at his face. Illya had been taken prisoner when their assignment had gone wrong. Before he could rescue him, he had escaped into the surrounding wilderness.
When the American had caught up with the men who had taken him, they had laughed and told him not to even bother, as the Russian had been shot and probably had bled to death if the wild animals hadn’t killed him outright. Their laughter ended as he had shot them. His only regret is that he had only sleep darts in his gun.
The traces of blood led deep into the jungle. As he followed the trail with a small flashlight shining in the blackness, he could see evidence of Illya’s weakening condition. Branches broken, underbrush flattened from where he had fallen, and blood, so much blood.
The path began to climb up a ridge, becoming more dangerous in the dark. Loose rocks slipped under his steps causing him to fall frequently, yet Napoleon wouldn’t stop. His partner was in trouble and alone somewhere up ahead.
As he reached the top of the ridge, the dark covering of clouds slowly parted allowing the moon to peek through them. The moonlight began to shine on the bare rocks of the summit and highlighted a golden head of hair. He had found his partner.
Hurry to him, he quickly checked over the man. The dressing the Russian had applied was soaked with blood. Napoleon ripped his silk shirt in strips reapplying the bandages in the brightening moonlight.
“Illya answer me.” He pleaded when he was unable to arouse the down agent.
Opening his eyes slowly, Illya saw the moonlight illuminating Napoleon’s face. He smiled then moaned.
“You are late my friend, but I knew you would find me,” he said as he closed his eyes once more in the safety of his partner’s arms.
While waiting for the evacuation team, Illya leaned against Napoleon. The lullaby from the crickets and birds lulled the two exhausted men to sleep. The moonlight shining on their faces revealed the safety they felt with each other.
I See A Full Moon Rising - PicFic Tuesday
Aug. 28th, 2012 02:26 pmglennagirl.livejournal.com
Napoleon Solo didn’t have a clue where he was. He was lying down in something soft and … He sniffed, letting his nose help him out with the details.
“Hmmm… it smells green. Mossy.”
A groan from somewhere to his left caused the groggy Solo to turn his head, something he immediately regretted.
“Illya?”
“What was your first clue?”
Solo smirked. Waking up was less than agreeable this time around.
( Read more... )
I See A Full Moon Rising - PicFic Tuesday
Aug. 28th, 2012 02:26 pmglennagirl.livejournal.com
Napoleon Solo didn’t have a clue where he was. He was lying down in something soft and … He sniffed, letting his nose help him out with the details.
“Hmmm… it smells green. Mossy.”
A groan from somewhere to his left caused the groggy Solo to turn his head, something he immediately regretted.
“Illya?”
“What was your first clue?”
Solo smirked. Waking up was less than agreeable this time around.
( Read more... )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}