It's good to have everyone in the same spot, but your participation here is also a welcome part of the Section VII community at large.
Thanks for staying with us as we've journeyed the past year.
section7mfu is a Gen site, though you can post gen-mature stories here as well.
mfu_map_room.
uncle_du_jour

April Dancer and Mark Slate sat, curled up in a lonely cabin in the Blue Ridge mountains, cut off there with no means of escape. They couldn’t go down the mountain as no doubt, traps had been set for them. Their only choice had been to continue going up.
As luck would have, they stumbled upon this old hunting cabin but from the looks of it….the holes in the roof and the cobwebs that hung everywhere, it hadn't been used in quite some time and was seemingly abandoned, but still it was cover as it was getting dark and a few snowflakes were beginning to fall.
Their communicators weren’t working, perhaps something to do with the mountains blocking the signal or who knew, maybe they were being jammed by T.H.R.U.S.H.
The agents had gotten off an S.O.S. before they moved up the treeline to the higher elevations but then lost the signal.
They were on their own and they knew it; and it was only a matter of time until their pursors found them.
( Read more... )

Spring rain:
telling stories,
a staw coat,
an umbrella walks past.
Inspired by a haiku by: Yosa Buson (1716-1783)
Napoleon sat on the park bench even though it was raining. He wore a trench coat not caring that it wasn’t enough; he stayed, watching the umbrellas walk past.
His face turned upwards, letting the water trickle down on him, It reminded him to stop, to remember the simple things in life... a rainstorm, a rainbow after it perhaps….a life he was lucky and grateful to still have.
Illya lying unconscious in medical in an induced coma while he healed was a stark reminder of that.
They would both be here yet, living another day to tell their tales.