Apr. 6th, 2019

alynwa.livejournal.com

Written in 2012 for a Picfic challenge. Click on the link to go to AO3.

Match Up

Current Location: New York, NY

ssclassof56.livejournal.com

The narrow Georgian townhouse was for generations the London residence of the Cubbitt family, before two world wars rendered their line extinct. In honor of the building’s history, a portrait of the notorious Sir Charles Cubbitt, resplendent in powdered wig and scarlet satin, hung in the front hall of the Jacobite Club, which a Pathé newsreel had recently named ‘the current temple of the In.’ Sir Charles greeted the colorfully-arrayed guests much as he had done two centuries earlier, his raffish air exuding sympathetic vibes over the young mods, particularly toward the scantily-clad girls. The less sympathetic Victorian Cubbitts had been hung in the Ladies and Gents.

At her companion’s inquiring glance, Faustina Pemberley shook her head and gestured to the sign marked Casino. The arrow pointed up a deeply-carpeted staircase. She ascended, Donald Marsden close behind, his hand still rattling the pocket change remaining from what he had announced to be an ‘exorbitant’ entrance fee. “I should try to reach Louise,” he said. “I don’t understand why I haven’t been able to get through.”

The link takes you to AO3.

glennagirl.livejournal.com

This story goes back to the beginnings of my writing efforts for MFU. I actually submitted it to

mfuwss which is the MFU Writer's Survival School. I was in search of constructive criticism and wound up with a three page writing lesson from

st_crispins It became a valuable tool for which I am still, to this day, very appreciative and thankful to have received.
That's the promo for

mfuwss ;)
I have no doubt that I could go back and make improvements to this story, but it has its merits. I hope you'll enjoy it, for the first time or maybe a second.
A Questionable End on ff.net

Opening...

Crisp. It can describe so many things. An apple is crisp, if it's any good, that is. A suit can have a crisp crease in the trousers, and you can utter a crisp reply at a remark that it less than pleasing.

A piece of bacon can be burned to a crisp. So can a human being.

It was the stench of that now making Napoleon Solo sick to his stomach. The smell of burning flesh is unlike anything else in the world; that and the knowledge that beyond the horrific odor lay the remains of what was once a person.

Right now, Napoleon was trying hard to believe that the person was not his partner.