The Face in the Fog ~ chapter 3

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

• link to chapter 2: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/126428.html

Illya held up his hand, protecting his eyes from the light that silhouetted her figure; recognizing her voice, and not needing to see her face.

“So where is that pompous partner of yours?”

“How should I know, he is a big boy and able to take care of himself.”

Her laughter filled the air. “I hardly think so; where one is, the other is not far.”

“Well that is for me to know and for you to find out then,” Illya said defiantly.

“Oh I will. ” She chuckled again as she locked the door, returning him to complete darkness.

“Chyort.”

The Face in the Fog ~ chapter 3

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

• link to chapter 2: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/126428.html

Illya held up his hand, protecting his eyes from the light that silhouetted her figure; recognizing her voice, and not needing to see her face.

“So where is that pompous partner of yours?”

“How should I know, he is a big boy and able to take care of himself.”

Her laughter filled the air. “I hardly think so; where one is, the other is not far.”

“Well that is for me to know and for you to find out then,” Illya said defiantly.

“Oh I will. ” She chuckled again as she locked the door, returning him to complete darkness.

“Chyort.”

Moon River - A Little Drabble Do Ya

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

( Read more... )

Moon River - A Little Drabble Do Ya

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

( Read more... )

a new Scene from the Departure Desk

[mayamaia.livejournal.com]

Title: Nothing Gold Can Stay
Genre: Gen
Rating: G (possibly PG for brief violence)
Characters: Illya, Napoleon, Original female
Series: Scenes from the Departure Desk
Summary: Sometimes the job spills over into the wrong place

a new Scene from the Departure Desk

[mayamaia.livejournal.com]

Title: Nothing Gold Can Stay
Genre: Gen
Rating: G (possibly PG for brief violence)
Characters: Illya, Napoleon, Original female
Series: Scenes from the Departure Desk
Summary: Sometimes the job spills over into the wrong place

Randomness of Life chapter 10 ~for A Little Drabble do Ya

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Prompted by: Café Talk ~Thomas Blackburn

.

Still, it's the Alpine sun that makes them burn,

They traveled down the slopes effortlessly skiing back and forth
crossing each others paths almost playfully.

“Are we actually having fun on an assignment?”Napoleon called.

“It would seem so,” the Russian acknowledged.  He saw the bright glint
reflected from the sun...something metallic, just as the shot was fired.

.

It is our childishness that clutters up

Napoleon, why do you insist on holding onto such clutter.”Illya asked,
picking up the model sailboat. Napoleon’s boyhood room was filled with
toy soldiers, baseballs...trading cards.

“Hey, they’re my childhood memories. Don’t you have any?”

“Mine are tanks and guns...real ones. I need no reminder of that.”

'

'Quite well, you needn't shout.'  I felt the thirst
.
Illya looked up from the well he’d been dumped into hours ago.

“You okay?” His partners voice echoed down.

“Nothing that a nice glass of water would not solve as I am rather
thirsty.”

“Illya, you’re in a well.”

He shook his head as the sat on the dry floor...
.


By suffered depredations we may grow

“Torture, just the thought of it is torturous. Beating, cutting, drowning,
drugs, sleep deprivation...sometimes I grow weary of it.

“Me too tovarisch, but what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.

“If that is so, then you are a Superman and I am Spiderman.”

“Why Spiderman?”

“I like his costume.”
.

It was quite dark now you must understand

Why does it always have to be a dark and stormy night? Napoleon said
as they sat together beside their campfire.

“You asked  for a ghost story, and do they all not start that way?”

“I suppose.”

“Fine then, once upon a time a Russian strangled his partner. The end.”

.

Outside the streets were like us and quite dead.

They were caught up in the middle of a revolution with nowhere
safe to go.  Communications were down...they were on their own.

They hid in a basement, finding bottles of wine and helped themselves.

“Good vintage,” Napoleon raised his bottle.

“Viva la revolución,” His partner took a long swig

Randomness of Life chapter 10 ~for A Little Drabble do Ya

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Prompted by: Café Talk ~Thomas Blackburn

(Each paragraph here is a separate story/conversation based on lines from 'Cafe talk'...in the bold letters)

.

Still, it's the Alpine sun that makes them burn,

They traveled down the slopes effortlessly skiing back and forth
crossing each others paths almost playfully.

“Are we actually having fun on an assignment?”Napoleon called.

“It would seem so,” the Russian acknowledged.  He saw the bright glint
reflected from the sun...something metallic, just as the shot was fired.

.

It is our childishness that clutters up

Napoleon, why do you insist on holding onto such clutter.”Illya asked,
picking up the model sailboat. Napoleon’s boyhood room was filled with
toy soldiers, baseballs...trading cards.

“Hey, they’re my childhood memories. Don’t you have any?”

“Mine are tanks and guns...real ones. I need no reminder of that.”

'

'Quite well, you needn't shout.'  I felt the thirst
.
Illya looked up from the well he’d been dumped into hours ago.

“You okay?” His partners voice echoed down.

“Nothing that a nice glass of water would not solve as I am rather
thirsty.”

“Illya, you’re in a well.”

He shook his head as the sat on the dry floor...
.


By suffered depredations we may grow

“Torture, just the thought of it is torturous. Beating, cutting, drowning,
drugs, sleep deprivation...sometimes I grow weary of it.

“Me too tovarisch, but what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.

“If that is so, then you are a Superman and I am Spiderman.”

“Why Spiderman?”

“I like his costume.”
.

It was quite dark now you must understand

Why does it always have to be a dark and stormy night? Napoleon said
as they sat together beside their campfire.

“You asked  for a ghost story, and do they all not start that way?”

“I suppose.”

“Fine then, once upon a time a Russian strangled his partner. The end.”

.

Outside the streets were like us and quite dead.

They were caught up in the middle of a revolution with nowhere
safe to go.  Communications were down...they were on their own.

They hid in a basement, finding bottles of wine and helped themselves.

“Good vintage,” Napoleon raised his bottle.

“Viva la revolución,” His partner took a long swig