mirabilelectu:

It was laughable, really, that none of them had figured it out yet.

The ruse was nearly transparent to anyone who looked closely enough, the very idea enough to make him laugh aloud in disbelief when it was first proposed to him in documents far more official than the absurdity contained within deserved. Who would ever believe such a thing? A fine actor he may be, skilled beyond compare in the arts of deception and subterfuge and the long con that had become as natural to him as breathing, but surely this was a step too far. Surely no one would fall for a story straight out of a cheap melodrama, no one would believe a history so patently engineered to earn sympathy and trust and condescending pity. But they had. One by one, they all bought into the carefully constructed identity that he assumed like a second skin, assessing and dismissing him as harmless and hopeless in an instant. Just as he intended.

For who would ever dream of suspecting that Martin Crieff, the nervous, bumbling, useless pilot was nothing more than a cover for Martin Holmes, undercover agent for the British government?

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So, my primary job is to be a Consulting Enabler. 

Mostly, I do this with a handful of people over gchat, usually late at night.

Just the day before yesterday, I had the BEST IDEA IN THE WORLD. Naturally, I gave it to someone who actually knows how to write properly. 

Here is the result.

**grins**

sweet dreams & flying machines by thefangirlhood It is Martin Crieff’s sixth birthday. He is given to understand, based on a picture book that one of the neighbor children lent him— well, left with him, anyway, after using it to hit him over the head— that birthdays are supposed to be magical. So far nothing magical has happened, but it hasn’t been his birthday for very many hours yet, so maybe there’s hope. After all, on Caitlin’s birthday, she got to ride a pony, and on Simon’s birthday, he got to ride a rollercoaster, and now it’s his birthday, so surely something good will happen. Surely. He knows what he would pick, if his birthday turned out like in the picture book. In the book, a good wizard shows up on a little boy’s birthday and takes him on an adventure, and there are dinosaurs and giant frogs and a cake as big as a house. Martin doesn’t want any of those things, though. All Martin wants in the world is to be an aeroplane, because all Martin really wants is to fly, but even at the young age of six, he recognizes that he is unlikely to sprout wings anytime soon. This is surely for the best; school is difficult enough without the added complication of feathers. OMG THERE IS FIC FOR THIS NOW. #World’s Only Consulting Enabler #STRIKES AGAIN
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sweet dreams & flying machines by thefangirlhood

It is Martin Crieff’s sixth birthday.

He is given to understand, based on a picture book that one of the neighbor children lent him— well, left with him, anyway, after using it to hit him over the head— that birthdays are supposed to be magical. So far nothing magical has happened, but it hasn’t been his birthday for very many hours yet, so maybe there’s hope. After all, on Caitlin’s birthday, she got to ride a pony, and on Simon’s birthday, he got to ride a rollercoaster, and now it’s his birthday, so surely something good will happen. Surely.

He knows what he would pick, if his birthday turned out like in the picture book. In the book, a good wizard shows up on a little boy’s birthday and takes him on an adventure, and there are dinosaurs and giant frogs and a cake as big as a house.

Martin doesn’t want any of those things, though.

All Martin wants in the world is to be an aeroplane, because all Martin really wants is to fly, but even at the young age of six, he recognizes that he is unlikely to sprout wings anytime soon. This is surely for the best; school is difficult enough without the added complication of feathers.

OMG THERE IS FIC FOR THIS NOW.

#World’s Only Consulting Enabler #STRIKES AGAIN

mirabilelectu: Here Comes The Sun Under normal circumstances, gathering together an entire houseful of college students in one place for any significant amount of time was enough of an achievement to merit a special notation on the calendar, but to have everyone sitting around the kitchen table at 8 AM on a Saturday morning and mostly coherent while doing so was very nearly a miracle. The last time even a fraction of the house at Parkside Terrace had been awake this early on a weekend was when exams were in full swing and both Colin and Olivia had stayed up all night studying together in the kitchen in a frenzied attempt to pass their chemistry class, and that had been a case of “never slept” instead of “got up early”. This morning was quite frankly an anomaly of fantastic proportions, and not one that was likely to be repeated soon. The early morning wake-up rumblings for the household had begun with Olivia once again, and she was very decidedly not happy about it. To be honest she had absolutely no idea why her body had decided that it needed to be awake at 7:30 in the bloody morning on one of the only two days that she got to sleep in, but awake she was and awake she was going to remain for the time being. No matter how she tossed or turned in her narrow bed she simply could not fall back asleep, not with the sliver of light that was coming through the window to fall directly on her face or the way Lizzie and Darren were both snoring as they clung to each other across the room. Finally with a frustrated groan she lurched herself out of bed and rummaged around blindly for the slippers that had managed to disappear again, grumbling angrily to herself all the while until she finally located them under a pile of dirty clothes that had not yet made it to the laundry. Bollocks, I really need to do those…later. Not now. Coffee now. Read more
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mirabilelectu:

Here Comes The Sun

Under normal circumstances, gathering together an entire houseful of college students in one place for any significant amount of time was enough of an achievement to merit a special notation on the calendar, but to have everyone sitting around the kitchen table at 8 AM on a Saturday morning and mostly coherent while doing so was very nearly a miracle. The last time even a fraction of the house at Parkside Terrace had been awake this early on a weekend was when exams were in full swing and both Colin and Olivia had stayed up all night studying together in the kitchen in a frenzied attempt to pass their chemistry class, and that had been a case of “never slept” instead of “got up early”. This morning was quite frankly an anomaly of fantastic proportions, and not one that was likely to be repeated soon.

The early morning wake-up rumblings for the household had begun with Olivia once again, and she was very decidedly not happy about it. To be honest she had absolutely no idea why her body had decided that it needed to be awake at 7:30 in the bloody morning on one of the only two days that she got to sleep in, but awake she was and awake she was going to remain for the time being. No matter how she tossed or turned in her narrow bed she simply could not fall back asleep, not with the sliver of light that was coming through the window to fall directly on her face or the way Lizzie and Darren were both snoring as they clung to each other across the room. Finally with a frustrated groan she lurched herself out of bed and rummaged around blindly for the slippers that had managed to disappear again, grumbling angrily to herself all the while until she finally located them under a pile of dirty clothes that had not yet made it to the laundry. Bollocks, I really need to do those…later. Not now. Coffee now.

Read more