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Bold Men C.1
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Bold Men C.44. Revolutionary PorcupineBold Men C.4
'The Okhranka?' Platov gasped. 'But... how?'
'They know you're here!' The tall brunette hissed, glaring at Gorlovich and Platov. 'Quick.' Instantly, Kolikov ran towards the far end of the dining table, and pushed one of the stools back. Inserting his fingers in between the planks of wood, he pushed a few of the timbers back to reveal a small cavernous basement. Ilia had been completely unaware of it, and would have been thoroughly impressed had fear not completely possessed him. 'All of you- in, now!' With expert ease, Gorlovich, Platov and M
by ~Time-Princess
Bold Men C.3 3. Communists never SleepBold Men C.3
Uncle Stepan came down into the dining room the very next morning to see a very sleepy Ilia sitting behind two sheets of neatly-typed paper. Ilia didn't even acknowledge the little old man's presence, instead, sat very still, and very quietly. 'Ilia! You compromised your sleep to write the article on the protests?' Uncle Stepan asked, surprised, gathering the sheets up and setting them aside. The dark-haired boy turned to smile at him, through bleary eyes. 'Of course. After all, is it not true that 'Communists never sleep'?' 'I'm sure that even Marx himself took
by ~Time-Princess
Bold Men C.2 2. Ilia and Gregory are brothersBold Men C.2
'What is the matter? Ilia- Maxim- boys, what is the matter?' Levanda asked, as she stood back against the shop wall to let the pair tumble inside, bringing scattering snow inside with them. 'The dragoons... they... Pyotr Street....' Maxim murmured in between gasps of breath. Confusion was replaced by anger in Levanda's wide, heart-shaped face. 'Those dirty dogs! Have they no shame? It was a peaceful demonstration! It wasn't even organized by a party, left-wing or otherwise!' 'Sympathy strikes will follow, I reckon.' Maxim agreed. 'I think they wanted to ma
by ~Time-Princess
Bold Men C.1At the time of the Revolution, dogs howled day and night all over Russia.Bold Men C.1
-Andrei Platonov
1. The Worker's Plight
Over Pyotr Street came the music. The people were singing. Their voices were out of tune, their words clumsy, and yet, to Ilia, it was beautiful, so beautiful, and he couldn't understand why passers-by ducked their heads and avoided the bright, shining eyes of the protesters as they waddled, slowly, down Pyotr Street, clad in rags. Ilia had only spent a day in Moscow, having arrived from the city of Omsk in Siberia, and yet the air seemed far colder here than
by ~Time-Princess
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"Would you care to sit with me for a cup of
"Why yes good sir, I've Tuberculosis. However, at least when expelled my words have substance." - Roderic von Rothschild
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"Would you care to sit with me for a cup of
"Why yes good sir, I've Tuberculosis. However, at least when expelled my words have substance." - Roderic von Rothschild
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You create your own Universe as you go along.
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