Cloud no. 9
1) All fills for prompts of the earlier prompt posts go in the post the prompt was posted in. No re-posting or splitting up prompts and fills.
2) Self-prompt when you post unprompted fic. (This means posting what the fill is about in a first comment, like a real prompt, and commenting on that with your fill.)
3) Try not to get too srs business. ( Read more... )
I don't have any plot ideas so make of it what you will.
(I would prefer if it wasn't NuLab though)
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SEND HELP
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http://www.ebaumsworld.com/flash/play/693831/
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( ... )
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GO MY MECHANICAL OWL.
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“I’m pleasantly surprised by the success of your take-off,” Michael remarked cheerfully, tilting his head like a sparrow. “But we still have hours in the air left to go wrong somewhere before we land.” David chuckled. His fingers worked steadily over the controls, pausing here and there, sea-blue eyes darting back to the gauges every few seconds.
“Don’t listen to him,” George said, scowling. “You’re doing brilliantly. I knew you would.” He edged forwards, holding onto the wall, and leaned forwards, gazing out of the newly-polished cockpit windows. The clouds were drifting slowly below them, gauzy sea that stretched as far as the eye could see.
The Margarita was a long and sleek vessel, shaped rather like a dragonfly with vast wings springing from her hull, joints creaking with each powerful movement, steady thuds ringing ( ... )
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“Plumbing. I can divert the flow to the pipes above our head,” he took great pleasure in the dissatisfied plumping of Michael’s bottom lip.
“No, you can’t,” David said, flapping his hand away. “Because you’d make a mess and you wouldn’t clean it up in half a dozen moons. I do hate to break up this pleasant conversation, but I must send you to check on the boilers, George. If they need more coal, you can find it piled in sacks in the storage room on the lowest deck.
“Send Michael to do it.”
“Really, George, we all have to work together if we’re going to make a success of this first flight,” David said reproachfully. “Now, as your new captain, I’m ordering you to check the boilers.”
George left his tailored jacket hanging from the hat stand, clamped to the wall of the cockpit, and wandered out into the body of the Margarita.
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“Not very long,” he replied, fumbling for his watch in his waistcoat.
“He might have got lost,” David said, a neat pink crease forming in his forehead. “He doesn’t know Maggie as well as you or I.”
“He knows her nooks and crannies well enough.”
“I’ve known George long enough now,” David said, raising his fingers from the controls and letting the Margarita glide. “To be concerned when he wonders off alone. He’s a smart chap, but he has temporary lapses of judgement. He once tried to steal a potted plant from the halls at the Academy by hiding it under his gown.” Michael frowned, watching David’s coattails flap as he moved across the controls ( ... )
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