OMG FIC-TEASER
Jan. 10th, 2005 02:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
x_losOkay, we got a little tired of our valiant efforts to write Ish 2, and we thought 'what else is funny?' and the answer was World War II. And so we started. And here's a teaser.
AU WWII KND FIC
The door exploded out from beneath Abagail Lincoln’s foot. The door has resisted Mole’s attempts to pick its lock, so she’d had to shoot out the lock and kick it in.
“Let’s move,” She whispered, motioning with her hand for the team to follow as she slid into the dark room. Raoul nodded, turning to cover them as Mole and Jean followed their leader.
On missions, Abagail even thought quietly. The world was muted, everything felt unreal. There was no texture to feel as she slid her hand into her pocket, grasping what had to be the grenade. But she couldn’t feel its ridges, just knew that there was something firm in her hand. She glanced down- was she trembling? The ringing of the little round pull against the grenade’s case might give them away. No, her hands were steady. She took as deep a breath as she dared and cocked her head over her shoulder. There was no need to ask if they’d planted the bombs as planned before they checked in with her here at the rendevous point.. Her team would have told her if they believed they had the slightest possibility of failure. Her team would have died before failing.
“The south passage is clear. Raoul and Jean- take it. Mole and I will take the West, where there’s little activity. One team has to get back with the information. The minute this hits, start running. Be careful.”
“CAREFUL?” Mole interjected, “Was my mother careful when she tried to abort me using only the hook she used to lace up her boots? Was my father careful when he gave my sister a taste of his mean left hook, drunk on whores, crazy with syphilis, and MAD from an over-indulgence in his insane silver-collecting hobby? Was my pet hamster careful when it launched itself over the mighty cliffs into the roaring sea, only to be ingested by an overweight sea cow? WERE they?”
“No, Cristophe,” Abby whispered darkly. “No. Now let’s do this.”
Later, a 2/5 exchange (Abby doesn't speak great English. Period!Hoagie brings tact far worse than Abby's command of English. And is period-appropriate!Non-Reformed and such)
“Parlevous François?”
“No, sister, parlevoius the Language of Love.”
“What country is that from?”
“Lovadonia, and I’m the head honcho round those parts!”
“But I thought you were from Brooklyn?”
“Shiksa, I’m from wherever you need me to be.”
“…I thought you were from Brooklyn.”
AU WWII KND FIC
The door exploded out from beneath Abagail Lincoln’s foot. The door has resisted Mole’s attempts to pick its lock, so she’d had to shoot out the lock and kick it in.
“Let’s move,” She whispered, motioning with her hand for the team to follow as she slid into the dark room. Raoul nodded, turning to cover them as Mole and Jean followed their leader.
On missions, Abagail even thought quietly. The world was muted, everything felt unreal. There was no texture to feel as she slid her hand into her pocket, grasping what had to be the grenade. But she couldn’t feel its ridges, just knew that there was something firm in her hand. She glanced down- was she trembling? The ringing of the little round pull against the grenade’s case might give them away. No, her hands were steady. She took as deep a breath as she dared and cocked her head over her shoulder. There was no need to ask if they’d planted the bombs as planned before they checked in with her here at the rendevous point.. Her team would have told her if they believed they had the slightest possibility of failure. Her team would have died before failing.
“The south passage is clear. Raoul and Jean- take it. Mole and I will take the West, where there’s little activity. One team has to get back with the information. The minute this hits, start running. Be careful.”
“CAREFUL?” Mole interjected, “Was my mother careful when she tried to abort me using only the hook she used to lace up her boots? Was my father careful when he gave my sister a taste of his mean left hook, drunk on whores, crazy with syphilis, and MAD from an over-indulgence in his insane silver-collecting hobby? Was my pet hamster careful when it launched itself over the mighty cliffs into the roaring sea, only to be ingested by an overweight sea cow? WERE they?”
“No, Cristophe,” Abby whispered darkly. “No. Now let’s do this.”
Later, a 2/5 exchange (Abby doesn't speak great English. Period!Hoagie brings tact far worse than Abby's command of English. And is period-appropriate!Non-Reformed and such)
“Parlevous François?”
“No, sister, parlevoius the Language of Love.”
“What country is that from?”
“Lovadonia, and I’m the head honcho round those parts!”
“But I thought you were from Brooklyn?”
“Shiksa, I’m from wherever you need me to be.”
“…I thought you were from Brooklyn.”
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no subject
Date: 2005-01-10 10:46 pm (UTC)