Date: 2017-11-30 04:16 am (UTC)
fight_them_all: (baby)
Illya gives a little nod of agreement. Although it is sharp and decisive (or would be, if not for his rounded face and large eyes), it is as much for thinking of the need for parade routes as wanting to agree with the older boy.

The wide paved avenues of Gorky Park are not in this place. No massive fountain stands as a backdrop to the marching men in uniform, although he has the small, almost traitorous thought that such marches would not fit this other city. This other world. He does not leap to answer Martin's invitation as one his age might otherwise have, for all that he felt his heart lodge a second in his throat at the prospect.

"I would like to see your Berlin," he says, carefully, before finding himself distracted by a woman who seems to move like one of the Valkyries of his mother's stories. He stops. Watches with wide eyes. To a child raised among the military-aligned and the careful frailty of the upper classes, she stands out from among those civilians he has seen thus far.

He reaches out to tug the sleeve of the older boy. "Martin," he whispers hurriedly, louder than he means to. "Look!"
This account has disabled anonymous posting.
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.
More info about formatting

Profile

fight_them_all: (Default)
Illya Kuryakin

November 2020

S M T W T F S
1234567
891011121314
151617181920 21
22232425262728
2930     

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 19th, 2025 01:03 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios