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rainbowfic2015-03-29 08:16 pm
novel_machinist) wrote in rainbowfic2015-03-29 08:16 pm
Entry tags:
23. We've got a lot of experience of not having any experience
Author: novel_machinist
Story: War Cycle
Theme: Literary / Octarine
Word Count: 382
Summary: Surprise, you're in charge of a covert ops group of people who are from an entirely different country that you never met.
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Notes: I'm really trying to get back into writing regularly. If you like what you see, feel free to mosey over toroost to catch my other original work.
"I thought you were Special Ops." The one man said in what was almost a more accusatory tone than one of question. He was a lithely built man who stood a bit shorter than Liam and was far less broad in the shoulder.
"Code cracker actually…"
"Well then 'Govn'r', how do you plan on keeping us from dying?"
Liam clenched his jaw. "I beg your pardon?" The man's accent was utterly preposterous, some strange mix of irish and whatever else had washed up on the Land of the Free's shores in the past hundred years.
"Don't worry about Crannic, he thinks he knows slang from every country in Europe." When Liam turned around he blinked. That accent was familiar, but only from the telivision. It was southern, like a -
"Cowboy, I'm trying to be friendly."
'Cowboy' as he was called, rolled incredibly blue eyes and offered his hand to Liam. "Kyle Brandon, codename Cowboy. I'm your linguist." He was taller than Liam with thick black hair and a slightly crooked nose.
"Right, Brandon. Captain Liam Conway." They were going to call him Govn'r, he knew it. "What languages do you speak?"
Crannic, started laughing again. "Heh, a better question would be what doesn't he speak. Brandon's a polygot."
"Really?"
Brandon nodded. "Yeah. Figured it'd come in handy so I joined the warfront."
"Certainly will." Liam looked around and frowned. "The brief said that there were three of you?"
"Boomer'll be around."
"Boomer."
"It's what he does." Crannic put his feet up on the table and stretched his arms up over his head.
As if on queue a man with dark hair and more than one set of scars on his arm slid into the room with a nod. "Mark Thompson, sir."
Liam looked around the table and tried to ignore the snake in his stomach. One thing he did know is that he would have to make sure that Crannic at least, knew what he "So is your code name 'talker'?"
The comment earned a stunned silence followed by a full-bellied laugh. "I like you, Govn'r. I'm your compass. You can just say 'Maps'."
And that was how Captain Liam Conway, previously a British code-cracker became the commanding officer of one of the most undercover task teams in World War II.
novel_machinistStory: War Cycle
Theme: Literary / Octarine
Word Count: 382
Summary: Surprise, you're in charge of a covert ops group of people who are from an entirely different country that you never met.
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Notes: I'm really trying to get back into writing regularly. If you like what you see, feel free to mosey over to
roost to catch my other original work."I thought you were Special Ops." The one man said in what was almost a more accusatory tone than one of question. He was a lithely built man who stood a bit shorter than Liam and was far less broad in the shoulder.
"Code cracker actually…"
"Well then 'Govn'r', how do you plan on keeping us from dying?"
Liam clenched his jaw. "I beg your pardon?" The man's accent was utterly preposterous, some strange mix of irish and whatever else had washed up on the Land of the Free's shores in the past hundred years.
"Don't worry about Crannic, he thinks he knows slang from every country in Europe." When Liam turned around he blinked. That accent was familiar, but only from the telivision. It was southern, like a -
"Cowboy, I'm trying to be friendly."
'Cowboy' as he was called, rolled incredibly blue eyes and offered his hand to Liam. "Kyle Brandon, codename Cowboy. I'm your linguist." He was taller than Liam with thick black hair and a slightly crooked nose.
"Right, Brandon. Captain Liam Conway." They were going to call him Govn'r, he knew it. "What languages do you speak?"
Crannic, started laughing again. "Heh, a better question would be what doesn't he speak. Brandon's a polygot."
"Really?"
Brandon nodded. "Yeah. Figured it'd come in handy so I joined the warfront."
"Certainly will." Liam looked around and frowned. "The brief said that there were three of you?"
"Boomer'll be around."
"Boomer."
"It's what he does." Crannic put his feet up on the table and stretched his arms up over his head.
As if on queue a man with dark hair and more than one set of scars on his arm slid into the room with a nod. "Mark Thompson, sir."
Liam looked around the table and tried to ignore the snake in his stomach. One thing he did know is that he would have to make sure that Crannic at least, knew what he "So is your code name 'talker'?"
The comment earned a stunned silence followed by a full-bellied laugh. "I like you, Govn'r. I'm your compass. You can just say 'Maps'."
And that was how Captain Liam Conway, previously a British code-cracker became the commanding officer of one of the most undercover task teams in World War II.
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I've added your author and story tags; let me know if you'd like them to be changed!
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Boomer does in fact blow things up. He's pragmatic about it though. Appreciates the craft.
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"story: the coward guardian"
"story: the devil is a gentleman"
thank you! In the future I'll remember to ask when I post.
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They are so adorable and all begging for trouble with that snark. I wants to know who I ship with theeem.
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Spoiler Alert: two of them are going to bang, the other two are straight
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