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Joyeux Anniversaire Rosywonder!
Feb. 6th, 2020 11:46 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
mrua7.livejournal.comHope you have a beautiful birthday!!!!
mrua7.livejournal.com
Happy Birthday Rosywonder
Feb. 6th, 2020 10:22 pmglennagirl.livejournal.comColor your world with all the good things in life... Happy Birthday!
Archives - September 2015
Sep. 6th, 2019 08:32 amglennagirl.livejournal.comBefore I get to the Archives selections, if you didn't see it already, take a look at the previous post about a new daily challenge: Word of the Day.
The stories are from September 7th and 8th, including a multi-part story from mrua7. The links to previous chapters are included in this post.
I hope you enjoy digging into the Archives!
The stories are from September 7th and 8th, including a multi-part story from mrua7. The links to previous chapters are included in this post.
I hope you enjoy digging into the Archives!
10:11 am:
mrua7 "The really unexpected affair"~ chapter 6- for The Short Affair Challenge - 4 comments
02:57 pm:alynwa Short Affairs, September 7, 2015: Uncle and Nephew - 14 comments
08:49 pm:jantojones Patience - Short Affair - Sept 7th - 13 comments
8th
10:37 am:mrua7 "Vendetta"~ for PicFic Tuesday September 8th - 17 comments
02:18 pm:glennagirl Air Raid - PicFic 9/8 - 8 comments
06:23 pm:rosywonder Pic fic 8 September - HEAT RISING - 1 comment
glennagirl.livejournal.comThis story by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rosywonder is set in New Orleans, and is a bit of inspiration for us as we embark on our 26 Day ABC Challenge with prompts about the Big Easy.
I hope many writers will join in on this challenge, it's always fun and always gives us good stories.
First, take a look at this...
Free of Body. Free of Soul
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
rosywonder is set in New Orleans, and is a bit of inspiration for us as we embark on our 26 Day ABC Challenge with prompts about the Big Easy.I hope many writers will join in on this challenge, it's always fun and always gives us good stories.
First, take a look at this...
Free of Body. Free of Soul
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Archives and Romance...
Jul. 27th, 2018 09:09 amglennagirl.livejournal.com
In visiting the Archives I came upon a story I don't remember reading previously, the link to which is below.
Alone by
ssclassof56 . You can search out her other stories by using her tag.Reading the story got me thinking about the romances that have sprung up among the stories about Illya and Napoleon, and even Alexander Waverly via the Correspondence Affair by
avirra. I never really enjoyed the long term romances until a few of them began to make sense to me, and carried with them memorable accounts of the true love we should hope can come to the men we admire, even if it can't be us. You know what I'm saying ;)Among our own writers a few stand out for the breadth of adventure and intrigue that we should find in stories rooted in the spy genre. Perhaps the most ambitious and equally rewarding, The Coal Miner's Wife by
rosywonder . It is an epic and grand story that will make you believe in love against the odds.If you haven't read the romantic saga of Illya and Elliott, his Irish firebrand. I will leave the directions on finding all of those stories to
mrua7, and an explanation about when she's going to bring back the super spy couple.I hope you find enjoyment in these stories, they're perfect for weekend reading.
glennagirl.livejournal.comWe have chapter 8 up, it is written by rosywonder and features Terry Clark. You can read the new chapter HERE
You may be just starting on this adventure, so don't stop, go directly to chapter 1
rosywonder and features Terry Clark. You can read the new chapter HEREYou may be just starting on this adventure, so don't stop, go directly to chapter 1
glennagirl.livejournal.comBack in April of 2013, rosywonder submitted this story for PicFic. There's no way to read her work and not come out of it smiling, so I'm confident you will enjoy this one whether you've read it previously, or here for the first time.
Robin Kuryakin And His Merry Men and Woman
rosywonder submitted this story for PicFic. There's no way to read her work and not come out of it smiling, so I'm confident you will enjoy this one whether you've read it previously, or here for the first time.Robin Kuryakin And His Merry Men and Woman
Writer's (and Reader's) Choice
Oct. 2nd, 2016 06:10 amlaurose8.livejournal.comDark Skies is gen in a romantic style. rosywonder 's start of partnership fic is strong on both the feeling and the setting.
rosywonder 's start of partnership fic is strong on both the feeling and the setting.rosywonder.livejournal.comI apologise if this is a little late and a little long. I have a dispensation (not papal). I do hope it all makes sense....( We are finally in Little Russia ... )
Chapter 17
As the elevated railway clattered its way inexorably towards Brighton Beach, Napoleon surveyed the scene. His old trench coat, hastily retrieved from the ‘discarded’ pile in his closet, provided both disguise and adequate cover for his holstered gun and the large packet in his inside pocket. He looked round, inwardly shuddering at the coat. Towards the end of the carriage a girl sat reading, the book’s title, even at this distance, clearly Yiddish. Solo rated her as a nine in his estimation; striking long black hair, and matching long legs curled sideways as she sat wedged into the corner. There were just too many difficulties in taking this further he decided eventually, not least of them being what awaited him and Kuryakin in the neighbourhood he was rapidly approaching.
Cindy had been strangely cooperative, he reflected. The oft-repeated phrases and invitations hadn’t been required. It was almost as if she had known he would be coming and what he was looking for. Drawing a bulky brown envelope from a desk drawer, she had said, in what he thought was a slightly rehearsed voice,
‘Oh, this might be useful.’
He pulled the envelope out of his coat and laid it on his lap, using his finger to gently slide open the flap. He hadn’t wanted to open it at headquarters; here on the sparsely populated train seemed a safer place, away from prying eyes. He frowned at what he saw. A compliments slip was attached, Waverly’s familiar handwriting scrawled across it.
I hope this will be informative. AW
A slight screech signalled the application of the train’s brakes and the approach of the station. Napoleon stuffed the contents of the envelope back into his coat and got up. The girl was already at the door of the carriage before him, a mysterious smile lingering on her rather voluptuous red lips. She walked ahead of him along the platform and onto the steel steps leading to the street. Napoleon looked down, once again slightly disconcerted to see a bald head rather than the reassuringly messy blond one awaiting him below. As the girl reached street level, he heard her utter a kind of stifled scream and clutch Kuryakin’s shoulder, the distinctive words ‘Nyet’ followed by Illya’s voice, calming her. Napoleon had recently improved his Russian exponentially on the pillows of Yulia from translation, and so, hidden by a steel pillar, he heard Kuryakin explain about the baldness, and how she could remove his disguise, and anything else she might like to as well, but later.
Judging his time right, he appeared behind them.
‘Napoleon. I was wondering where you were’ Illya said, a slight flush seeping across his normally pale cheeks. ‘May I introduce you. Valeriya, this is Napoleon Solo. Napoleon, Valeriya. Lera’s parents live near to the building in question. She has agreed to help us and provide somewhere convenient for us to stay.’
Napoleon barely concealed a grin.
‘Uh-huh. Well that’s very kind of you, Miss….’
‘Kramarova’ she replied, smiling. ‘I’m sorry if you heard me scream’ she laughed, walking next to him, Illya slightly behind. ‘It was a shock seeing Illyusha like that.’ Napoleon smiled, noting the diminutives.
‘Well he does look very different, that’s for sure. Perhaps he’ll grow to like it so much…’
‘Nyet’ she repeated, her faint smile repeated in Kuryakin’s face behind them. ‘That will never happen.’
They sat round a table, faint noises from the café below seeping into the conversation from time to time. Spread over it were the contents of the envelope together with three large cups of very strong coffee.
‘So you think he had this waiting for you?’ Illya said, opening and flattening the paper onto the table.
‘Definitely. Look at the slip. What I can’t quite understand is why a map of the New York Telephone Company phone lines and exchanges is relevant to all this.’
Illya sat back, sipping his coffee.
‘Oh I think I can. I visited Rabbi Bruk at the Jewish Centre this morning, on Lerusha’s advice.’
‘Naturally.’
Illya frowned then continued. ‘After advising me to get over the shock of losing my hair in the accident, and other family advice, we talked for some time.’
‘And?’
‘There is a synagogue here’ he pointed to a block on the map, ‘whose Rabbi has made a complaint to the authorities about drilling noises and disruption to their phone line. That building is directly behind the Kosher butcher and the Satrapy that was discovered. Napoleon, when that building was searched, did they discover a cellar of any kind? Lera tells me that all the buildings here have cellars.’
Napoleon thought for a while. He had read the report Section III had prepared. There was definitely no mention of any cellar or underground rooms.
‘So, what you are saying, is that there is a hidden room somewhere underground.’
‘Precisely. Now, look at the telephone map. I have a feeling this was found at the scene and given to Waverly.’ They all leaned forward over the map together, Valeriya’s face close to Illya’s.
‘Look.’ A thin, barely discernible pencil line had been drawn from the block in Brighton Beach stretching across New York. Illya traced the line to its conclusion. Valeriya gasped and looked at them both.
‘The United Nations Building!’
Illya glanced at Napoleon from under his glasses. ‘Lera works at the UN Secretariat. She is an expert in Slavic languages.’
‘Of course.’
Illya took off his glasses and scratched his head; carefully.
‘This is only conjecture based on very little factual evidence, but, I believe there may be some breach of UN security being attempted here. But that is not the real point of all this.’
Napoleon sighed and picked up his coffee, waiting. Illya stood up and went to the window, glancing down at the steady stream of customers entering and leaving the café.
‘Call me paranoid, but the object of this attack is not just a breach of UN security’ he said gravely. I’m sure that your friend Richards at the FBI will soon track back the leak to here in Little Russia, which no doubt will be made obvious to him in some way. And he will conclude, I imagine, that it is the Soviet government who are behind the breach when he finds the underground room and its incriminating evidence. You Americans may not like us very much’ he added, looking fondly at Valeriya, ‘but for the sake of world peace we need to find some way of working together, and at the moment the United Nations seems the place to do it.’
Napoleon stared at both of them over his coffee cup. Working with Illya, entering his world had profoundly changed his own attitude to so many things, even though he had always considered himself a liberal thinker. He put the cup down.
‘Just one last thing before we go and find this underground cellar of yours’ he said. ‘Why did Agent Fake and his merry men try to take you out?’ Illya returned to the table and sat down.
‘Because they knew that if I discovered the evidence, I would know instantly what they were up to, and we would avert an international incident….. once again’ he added rather despairingly.
Napoleon put down his cup and folded up the plan.
‘OK children, we’d better just pick up a dinky little piece of explosive and be on our merry way.’
Chapter 17As the elevated railway clattered its way inexorably towards Brighton Beach, Napoleon surveyed the scene. His old trench coat, hastily retrieved from the ‘discarded’ pile in his closet, provided both disguise and adequate cover for his holstered gun and the large packet in his inside pocket. He looked round, inwardly shuddering at the coat. Towards the end of the carriage a girl sat reading, the book’s title, even at this distance, clearly Yiddish. Solo rated her as a nine in his estimation; striking long black hair, and matching long legs curled sideways as she sat wedged into the corner. There were just too many difficulties in taking this further he decided eventually, not least of them being what awaited him and Kuryakin in the neighbourhood he was rapidly approaching.
Cindy had been strangely cooperative, he reflected. The oft-repeated phrases and invitations hadn’t been required. It was almost as if she had known he would be coming and what he was looking for. Drawing a bulky brown envelope from a desk drawer, she had said, in what he thought was a slightly rehearsed voice,
‘Oh, this might be useful.’
He pulled the envelope out of his coat and laid it on his lap, using his finger to gently slide open the flap. He hadn’t wanted to open it at headquarters; here on the sparsely populated train seemed a safer place, away from prying eyes. He frowned at what he saw. A compliments slip was attached, Waverly’s familiar handwriting scrawled across it.
I hope this will be informative. AW
A slight screech signalled the application of the train’s brakes and the approach of the station. Napoleon stuffed the contents of the envelope back into his coat and got up. The girl was already at the door of the carriage before him, a mysterious smile lingering on her rather voluptuous red lips. She walked ahead of him along the platform and onto the steel steps leading to the street. Napoleon looked down, once again slightly disconcerted to see a bald head rather than the reassuringly messy blond one awaiting him below. As the girl reached street level, he heard her utter a kind of stifled scream and clutch Kuryakin’s shoulder, the distinctive words ‘Nyet’ followed by Illya’s voice, calming her. Napoleon had recently improved his Russian exponentially on the pillows of Yulia from translation, and so, hidden by a steel pillar, he heard Kuryakin explain about the baldness, and how she could remove his disguise, and anything else she might like to as well, but later.
Judging his time right, he appeared behind them.
‘Napoleon. I was wondering where you were’ Illya said, a slight flush seeping across his normally pale cheeks. ‘May I introduce you. Valeriya, this is Napoleon Solo. Napoleon, Valeriya. Lera’s parents live near to the building in question. She has agreed to help us and provide somewhere convenient for us to stay.’
Napoleon barely concealed a grin.
‘Uh-huh. Well that’s very kind of you, Miss….’
‘Kramarova’ she replied, smiling. ‘I’m sorry if you heard me scream’ she laughed, walking next to him, Illya slightly behind. ‘It was a shock seeing Illyusha like that.’ Napoleon smiled, noting the diminutives.
‘Well he does look very different, that’s for sure. Perhaps he’ll grow to like it so much…’
‘Nyet’ she repeated, her faint smile repeated in Kuryakin’s face behind them. ‘That will never happen.’
They sat round a table, faint noises from the café below seeping into the conversation from time to time. Spread over it were the contents of the envelope together with three large cups of very strong coffee.
‘So you think he had this waiting for you?’ Illya said, opening and flattening the paper onto the table.
‘Definitely. Look at the slip. What I can’t quite understand is why a map of the New York Telephone Company phone lines and exchanges is relevant to all this.’
Illya sat back, sipping his coffee.
‘Oh I think I can. I visited Rabbi Bruk at the Jewish Centre this morning, on Lerusha’s advice.’
‘Naturally.’
Illya frowned then continued. ‘After advising me to get over the shock of losing my hair in the accident, and other family advice, we talked for some time.’
‘And?’
‘There is a synagogue here’ he pointed to a block on the map, ‘whose Rabbi has made a complaint to the authorities about drilling noises and disruption to their phone line. That building is directly behind the Kosher butcher and the Satrapy that was discovered. Napoleon, when that building was searched, did they discover a cellar of any kind? Lera tells me that all the buildings here have cellars.’
Napoleon thought for a while. He had read the report Section III had prepared. There was definitely no mention of any cellar or underground rooms.
‘So, what you are saying, is that there is a hidden room somewhere underground.’
‘Precisely. Now, look at the telephone map. I have a feeling this was found at the scene and given to Waverly.’ They all leaned forward over the map together, Valeriya’s face close to Illya’s.
‘Look.’ A thin, barely discernible pencil line had been drawn from the block in Brighton Beach stretching across New York. Illya traced the line to its conclusion. Valeriya gasped and looked at them both.
‘The United Nations Building!’
Illya glanced at Napoleon from under his glasses. ‘Lera works at the UN Secretariat. She is an expert in Slavic languages.’
‘Of course.’
Illya took off his glasses and scratched his head; carefully.
‘This is only conjecture based on very little factual evidence, but, I believe there may be some breach of UN security being attempted here. But that is not the real point of all this.’
Napoleon sighed and picked up his coffee, waiting. Illya stood up and went to the window, glancing down at the steady stream of customers entering and leaving the café.
‘Call me paranoid, but the object of this attack is not just a breach of UN security’ he said gravely. I’m sure that your friend Richards at the FBI will soon track back the leak to here in Little Russia, which no doubt will be made obvious to him in some way. And he will conclude, I imagine, that it is the Soviet government who are behind the breach when he finds the underground room and its incriminating evidence. You Americans may not like us very much’ he added, looking fondly at Valeriya, ‘but for the sake of world peace we need to find some way of working together, and at the moment the United Nations seems the place to do it.’
Napoleon stared at both of them over his coffee cup. Working with Illya, entering his world had profoundly changed his own attitude to so many things, even though he had always considered himself a liberal thinker. He put the cup down.
‘Just one last thing before we go and find this underground cellar of yours’ he said. ‘Why did Agent Fake and his merry men try to take you out?’ Illya returned to the table and sat down.
‘Because they knew that if I discovered the evidence, I would know instantly what they were up to, and we would avert an international incident….. once again’ he added rather despairingly.
Napoleon put down his cup and folded up the plan.
‘OK children, we’d better just pick up a dinky little piece of explosive and be on our merry way.’
rosywonder.livejournal.comWith apologies if this is too long.
Chapter Eight
From the shattered window it was possible to see the street below, relatively quiet for the time of day. There were few witnesses to a slight man being bundled into an anonymous car, a perfunctory squeal of tyres signalling its departure.
Napoleon turned away, the sudden flapping of curtains round the gaping window space reminding him of what had happened here. He picked his way across the chaos in the room before gathering speed down the stairs, and heading towards a small gathering of stallholders selling produce outside St Mark’s Church opposite. Leaning against a tree while he observed a particularly striking woman selling herbs and tomatoes, he glanced around. After the bugging scenario, he was taking no chances.
‘Wanda! Hi.’ Wanda was one of the few people he knew in UNCLE that didn’t want to know exactly why he wanted something or whether he should have it. After a slight hiatus, the telephone number of the FBI bureau handling the incident in Little Russia was provided. He smiled slightly at the name she provided him. It was possible that the homing signal alone could lead him to Illya, but in the meantime, he needed to know the answers to a few questions forming in his mind.
‘Yeah, that’s right, Napoleon Solo, he’ll remember me.’ He had managed to establish eye contact with the tomato girl by the time a memorable voice issued forth through his communicator.
‘Napoleon Solo. Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit! How ya doing boy?’ The Kentucky twang was unmistakeable.
‘I’m fine Dwane. Um, I kind of…’
‘Need a favour? Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Despite his concern for his partner, Napoleon smiled widely.
‘OK. This is kind of sensitive, Dwane, but Illya and I were involved in a little incident just now with some of your guys involved in the Little Russia investigation, who just took it into their heads that somehow he’s involved. They hauled him off somewhere and I’m wondering …’.
‘Catch any names?’ Napoleon repeated the only name proffered in the predictable FBI one-sided conversation. There was another pause before Richards came back, Napoleon sensing a tension in the normally relaxed Kentuckian voice.
‘Sorry buddy, there’s been no action on the investigation you referred to, and hell, we don’t even have an Agent Spencer working for us, boy.’
I do believe that it's rose-of-pollux next!
Chapter Eight
From the shattered window it was possible to see the street below, relatively quiet for the time of day. There were few witnesses to a slight man being bundled into an anonymous car, a perfunctory squeal of tyres signalling its departure.
Napoleon turned away, the sudden flapping of curtains round the gaping window space reminding him of what had happened here. He picked his way across the chaos in the room before gathering speed down the stairs, and heading towards a small gathering of stallholders selling produce outside St Mark’s Church opposite. Leaning against a tree while he observed a particularly striking woman selling herbs and tomatoes, he glanced around. After the bugging scenario, he was taking no chances.
‘Wanda! Hi.’ Wanda was one of the few people he knew in UNCLE that didn’t want to know exactly why he wanted something or whether he should have it. After a slight hiatus, the telephone number of the FBI bureau handling the incident in Little Russia was provided. He smiled slightly at the name she provided him. It was possible that the homing signal alone could lead him to Illya, but in the meantime, he needed to know the answers to a few questions forming in his mind.
‘Yeah, that’s right, Napoleon Solo, he’ll remember me.’ He had managed to establish eye contact with the tomato girl by the time a memorable voice issued forth through his communicator.
‘Napoleon Solo. Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit! How ya doing boy?’ The Kentucky twang was unmistakeable.
‘I’m fine Dwane. Um, I kind of…’
‘Need a favour? Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Despite his concern for his partner, Napoleon smiled widely.
‘OK. This is kind of sensitive, Dwane, but Illya and I were involved in a little incident just now with some of your guys involved in the Little Russia investigation, who just took it into their heads that somehow he’s involved. They hauled him off somewhere and I’m wondering …’.
‘Catch any names?’ Napoleon repeated the only name proffered in the predictable FBI one-sided conversation. There was another pause before Richards came back, Napoleon sensing a tension in the normally relaxed Kentuckian voice.
‘Sorry buddy, there’s been no action on the investigation you referred to, and hell, we don’t even have an Agent Spencer working for us, boy.’
I do believe that it's rose-of-pollux next!
mrua7.livejournal.comHere's a nice weekend read from our friend Rosywonder. Her stories are always long and a delight! She takes Napoleon and Illya on quite a journey in this one!
Summary: "What is one prepared to sacrifice to have complete security of life? Solo and Kuryakin head to the deep south to investigate the dark heart of THRUSH in what appears to be a perfect, but arcane Louisiana town named after a certain French Emperor ..."
"Free of body free of soul" Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four,
Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven
Summary: "What is one prepared to sacrifice to have complete security of life? Solo and Kuryakin head to the deep south to investigate the dark heart of THRUSH in what appears to be a perfect, but arcane Louisiana town named after a certain French Emperor ..."
"Free of body free of soul" Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four,
Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven
Bon anniversaries Rosywonder!
Feb. 6th, 2016 11:10 pmmrua7.livejournal.comWishing you a wonderful day, here's a virtual basket of
French wine, bread and cheese for you to enjoy!
Bon anniversaire mon amie!
French wine, bread and cheese for you to enjoy!
Bon anniversaire mon amie!
mrua7.livejournal.comSummary: What is a man to do, especially a man called Napoleon Solo, when a very unwelcome guest comes to stay and won't leave?
"Mr. Greedy or the worm who refused to turn"
"Mr. Greedy or the worm who refused to turn"
Pic fic 8 September - HEAT RISING
Sep. 8th, 2015 06:23 pmrosywonder.livejournal.comSomehow I have posted a story to do with the flaming tower of the Houses of Parliament in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
mfu_map_room . This may be the link:
http://mfu-map-room.livejournal.com/24440.html
With apologies for getting the cut thing and the picture all wrong (there is no picture!). I will do better next time. It's been a long time ....
mfu_map_room . This may be the link:http://mfu-map-room.livejournal.com/24440.html
With apologies for getting the cut thing and the picture all wrong (there is no picture!). I will do better next time. It's been a long time ....
Writer's Choice (Reader's Rec)
Aug. 30th, 2015 05:41 amlaurose8.livejournal.comThe sun ain't gonna shine anymore is a bit darker than I normally go for (though I like to remember it is right at the start of their partnership); but in it rosywonder has given us a short but powerful fic not to be missed.
rosywonder has given us a short but powerful fic not to be missed.glennagirl.livejournal.com
First of all, this is a weekend read. It has seven parts, but several chapters within each par t. It of course has Illya and Napoleon, New Orleans, and numerous twists and turns. You won't be disappointed by this epic tale from our cousin
rosywonderFree of Body, Free of Soul, part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
The Reading Room - featuring Rosywonder
Oct. 3rd, 2014 09:11 amglennagirl.livejournal.comWe're near the end of our list of writers who contributed to the Gen 50th Anniversary Round Robin on mfuwss. This entry is from rosywonder, and like all of her stories, so worth sitting down and just becoming emersed in the experience.
This one, My Friend Mr. Greedy, or the Worm Who Refused To Turn... takes you on a post-Waverly UNCLE adventure unlike any you'll encounter again. Sit down, have a cuppa and a biscuit (going all English here), and enjoy this charming tale.
mfuwss. This entry is from rosywonder, and like all of her stories, so worth sitting down and just becoming emersed in the experience.This one, My Friend Mr. Greedy, or the Worm Who Refused To Turn... takes you on a post-Waverly UNCLE adventure unlike any you'll encounter again. Sit down, have a cuppa and a biscuit (going all English here), and enjoy this charming tale.
Gen Round Robin News!
Jul. 22nd, 2014 11:46 pmmrua7.livejournal.comI've heard from Rosywonder and her chapter for the Round Robin on MFUWSS should be posting tomorrow! Yay!
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