Well, hello everyone, I am slightly (very) new here (not to the Bartimaeus Trilogy, just these fourms) and know very few (no-one) people here. However, this is an Idea i've had lodged firmly in my head for a few months.

There are five main points of view in this story. They are listed bellow:

Dimitry A. Popov-POV:3rd Person-Corporal in the Red Army
John Mandrake(Dead personality-wise.)/Nathiniel-POV:3rd Person-Head of Security
Kitty Jones-POV:3rd Person-Head of Internal Affairs (Best I could come up with :/)
Bartimeaus-POV:1st Person-Greater Djinni, in service to Mr. Mandrake
Fifth one...guess. Three tries.

Nope. Wrong. De-nada. Hmph. Mind as well say it then.

Queezle-POV:1st Person-Greater Djinni, in service to mister mandrake

Now, the reasons I have Kitty, Bartimeaus, and Nathaniel in there are fairly obvious. The reason for Dimitry is, well, I just wanted a charcter like that, to show a third, very differnt side. The reason for Queezle is...well, two reasons: 1. I felt bad for her when she dies. Because she died. Dieing sucks. Enough said.
2. She bought out the more light hearted, affectonit(sp?) side of Bartimaeus, and I liked that brief glimpse. More minor charcters that we may have chapters on are:

-Genral Vanya Alexandreyivich

-Jane Farrar


More may come up as I write. Anyway, without further adue(sp?): (OH, also, warning, this may not be suitable for the faint of heart or easily offended because...well...

-Extreme Violence
-Exescive gore
-Profainty
-Sexual jokes
-Suggestive themes
-Sexual Themes

...think i got it all.


Chapter 1

Nathaniel was jerked awake from a pleasent sleep by the ringing of a phone. "Yes?" he said grogilly. "Hi, sir, it's miss piper here. I have urgent bit of information." Nathaniel sighed and looked affectonaitly(sp?) over at the slight feminine form laying next to him. "Is it really urgent?" he asked, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from her. "Yes. Very, very urgent sir." He sighed. Again. "Very well. I'm on my way." he kissed the girl on the cheek. She stirred a little. He quietly extracated himself from the bed....and propmtly fell flat on his face.

Kitty sat up immedatly and looked around. She reached for where Nathaniel had been lying to arouse him, only to find the spot empty. About that time she heard a muffeled "Ow." She looked over the side of the bed...and burst out laughing. Nathaniel righted himself. "Oh shut up. What did i trip on-" he looked down and saw a heap of clothes piled at his feet. Odd. He didn't remember doing that. He more remembered a brief frenzy which sent clothes flying in all directions. Oh well. Kitty looked down and giggled. He flashed her a smile on his way to the closet. Within five minutes, he was fully dressed. When he was about to leave, Kitty asked: "Nat, where are you going? Isn't it rather early?" he sighed. "Yes, it is, but Ms. Piper called saying she had urgent news." He turned around and gave her a quick kiss, then proceeded out the door.

Nathaniel was distracted and tired on the way into work. His thoughts loitered back to last night. The memories bought a smile to his face while making him blush at the same time. And, in being tired...well, he had gotten up two hours earlier then usual. Upon entering his office, he was greeted by a blast of noise. People running everywhere, papers flying, orders being shouted. "Sir!" a voice called. Nathaniel turned to look and saw Ms. Piper becokining him into his office. He walked over and shut the door behind him. "Okay, what do we have?" he asked her, stifiling a yawn. "Sir, The Czech Rebublic just got crushed."

Nathaniel practiclay jumped out of his seat. "What?" he asked, dumbfounded. "By whom?" "A new country called the Soviet Union, sir. A union of sixteen---no, now seventeen countries, including Russia, The Czech Rebublic, and several other countries." Nathaniel whistled. "Who started this alliance?" "The Russians, sir." "Don't call me sir, please." She looked at him with her head cocked to one side. "Alright then." she said. "And the rest of the countries...other then Czech, did they all join willingly?" "No, si-Err, John. Only three joined willingly. Russia crushed all those that refused and pretty muched shuffeled them into the alliance." Once again, Nathaniel whisteled. "Damn. 24 hours to crush fourteen countries. And how have they come to be so powerfull?" he asked. "Well...John, would you mind coming over here? I've got sattilite(sp?) images here showing Russian troop movements in the last 24 hours." Nathaniel winced visably at being called John. There was no trace of John Mandrake anywhere in him. He was Nathaniel, once again. In any case, he moved over to stand beside Piper, looked down, and propmtly dropped his jaw as far (if not farther) then humanly possible. "How...impossible...but..." he faltered. He was looking at an army of atleast two thousand Marids and greater spirits pouring across a open field. Bullets did nothing to them, not even direct artillery hits seemed to do any more than annoy them. Only one, a fairly weak Marid, was felled by about 50 Sixth level Djinni hitting it with off-the-hook Detonations all at once. Nathaniel stared at the images. "Damn." he muttered again.
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(To avoid double posting, heres the next part:)

Bartimeaus

The small boy stalked through the forest, ducking, dashing, and hiding. In his hand he held a very large stick. He peered around the tree he was behinde. He tightened his grip on the stick. He stepped into the open and continued along slowly, half-squatting and silent. He peered around the next tree. Nothing here. I turned around---and was propmtly smacked in the face with a wide log. I went flying back about three feet before jumping up. "Tag," a voice giggled from somewhere. "you're it." I sighed. "Dammnit, queezle, how do you keep sneaking up behinde me?" I asked. I was getting annoyed. Fifth time, it was. Head was beginning to hurt "Like I'm telling." a voice sneered from behinde me. I turned around, only to be wacked in the face by Queezle's outstretched arm as she sprinted past. Ptolemy really wasn't cut out for this. With a Czech curse, i slowly got to my feet. I climbed the nearest tree and headed in the direction I had seen Queezle leaving in. With a hearty sigh, I set off. It took me a few hours (and a few slips), but i finally caught up with Queezle. She was looking the other way. I dropped down and gave her a really enthusastic wack. I watched gleefully as she went flying. I sprinted up and tried to jump over her. She poked her stick up and caught me in a very, very sensitive area.

"Fucahhhhhhhhh!" I said, starting with a curse which cut off into a yell of suprise as I fell toward the ground and impacted with a thump. I quickly flipped over. I saw Queezle, who had somehow gotten up, running at me with a smirk. Then...she tripped.
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Queezle

Our master had given us a break two days before. We decided to spend our time in the forests bordering London. True, there's earth there, but it's soooo much better than synthetic human crap. Anyway, I was running at him, raising my stick to get him one last time (hey, we got carried away, okay? It's easy to do. Stick fights have a strong reminisence to sword fights. Except with sticks. Stop sneering.) I raised the stick, jumped---and tripped. On a rock. I gave a little yelp of suprise and landed on something soft, elicting a muffeled protest-"Hey!"-from Bartimaeus, who I had fallen on. I moved myself back a little so my form's middlesection wasn't crushing his face---and ended up in a very, very, very awkward position. I blushed. He blushed. We both looked straight at each other. We both changed forms. I can't remember what it was now...but...oh, it was wonderfull--and odd. I mean, I had always liked Bartimaeus (Rather the reason I had been playing tag with him, dimwit) but I had never really thought I loved him...well, I guess that depends how strong a like has to be to turn into love. But it definatly did. And still is. And always will be.
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(I'll contine tomorrow, very tired. Next up, Popov, the Red Army grunt. Or so it is thought...(No, really, he's just a grunt. Not special.)*smiles malicously*)

Cpl. Dimitry Andreyivich Popov

Dimitry peeked around the corner. He waited five seconds before signalling to his fire team to move up. He moved first, followed by Pvt. Cheknovzky, followed by the rest of the team. Popov raised his AK-101 caustoisly. He had a bad feeling about this next room. He peeked around the corner---and was promptly hit with a red paintball in the face. "Ach! Damnit!" he yelled, falling backwards. "Crap! Man down, man down!" Pvt. Cheknovzky yelled. Dimitry allowed his head to lull to the side, trying his best not to move and be a good casualty. As his head lulled, he saw a camoflouged figure jump out behinde his team. He wanted to yell out, but rules forbade him to do so. Within two seconds and a flash of "gun" fire, his whole team had numerous red blotches on them. "Nice try, Dimitry." said the man sarcasticly while helping him up. "Screw you too, asshole." Dimitry snapped back. Seargent Vladmir chuckled and walked away shaking his head. Dimitry grunted. One day. One day.
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Nathaniel

"And, as you can see, the price of tea in China is at an all-time low...blah blah blah blah..." Nathaniel sighed and began to doodle on his note pad. Nobody actually listened to this stuff. What does anything have to do with the price of tea in China? Nothing! He looked over at Kitty. She looked up at him. He rolled his eyes. She giggled and nodded. He went back to doodling. "And not only tea, but herbs and blah blah bla-" the man was cut off by a crescendo of noise. A team of Foloits was pushing a cyrstal ball. There was a collective groan from the group. Everyone knew what it would be. A large face matirealized. "Hello, everyone! Make sure to come to the new play this evening, Swans of Araby 2! You'll sing, cry, laugh, and watch in stunned silence! Be there today!" The face disapeared, the foloits rolled the ball out. "Dear god, a second musical." they all whispered. Thank god I'll have other things to do... he thought, his gaze wandering over to Kitty. She gave him a kinky smile and a wink. He returned the favor. No one noticed. They were all busy groaning. Ecspecially the P.M. After Deavurex's death, a mysterious man named Winston Churchhill (:o! PLOT TWIST PERHAPS? Is this the cold war? Is this sparta? Wait to find out!...Now!) He liked theater, but he--and everyone else--despised Makepeace's plays. "Oh dear." he mumbled. Most of the ministers could think up a reason not to be there, like work or some other "Inconvience". Bu not the P.M, unfourtantley: He had a clean slate as of yesterday. In two hours, the meeting had ended. He joined Kitty. "That was utterly irrelavent." Nathaniel said, brow furrowed. Kitty sighed. "I know, I expected talk of the Soviet Union." Nathaniel gave a little snort. "Ditto."

Seeing as Kitty had walked in that morning instead of taking a car, Nathaniel decided to drive her home. They talked the whole way home. Finally, they reached the house--at the same time as Bartimeaus and Queezle. Nathaniel scratched his head. He got out of the car. "Bartimaeus! Queezle!...What are you doing home so early?" he asked confusedly. "Huh? Oh. You gave us a two-day break. It's been exactly forty eight hours." Queezle said. Bartimaeus nodded. They both looked very distracted. There eyes were kind of glazed over. "Uh...hello?" Nathaniel said. "Huh? Oh. What?" they said in unison. "You guys all right? Your eyes keep glazing over, as if you're thinking about something, using all of your trains-of-thought on one thought." "Oh. Uh, yeah." Bartimaeus said. Kitty had come over to stand beside him. There was silence for a few moments. Early evening crickets chirped. Nathaniel raised an eyebrow and chuckled. THe chuckle turned into a laugh, which grew in size (metaphoriclay, not physiclay(sp?) until Nathaniel was rolling on the ground clutching his stomach. Kitty looked dreadfully confused. Bartimaeus and Queezle stared at him like he was crazy. "Uh...hon, what's so funny?" Kitty asked. Nathaniel stopped laughing for a second and allowed himself to regain his breath. "They hit it off." Nathaniel said, still chuckling slightly.

Kitty's eyes grew wide and contemplated the two panthers standing infront of her. They looked rather awkward. An uneasy silence. Then Kitty fell over laughing. "Oi! Shut up!" Bartimaeus yelled. Nathaniel got to his feet (again). "Why be ashamed? Congratulations! Atleast somebody has had a good day." Kitty looked over at him. "What do you mean atleast someone? You haven't had a good day?" She asked. Now it was Bartimaeus and Queezle's turn to chuckle. Nathaniel smiled. "Not yet." he said. Kitty's fingers danced around the back of his neck. "Then let me show you to one." she said, smiling kinkly. Nathaniel smiled back and allowed himself to be led in side. Now, Bartimaeus and Queezle burst out laughing.

RIGHT! Lets review chapter events, shall we?

-Union of Soviet Socialsts Rebublics rises (U.S.S.R) (C.C.C.P)
-Bartimaeus and Queezle fall in love
-In which Dimitry gets his ass kicked
-The price of tea in China
-"Dear god, it's another musical"
-Nathaniel discovered something all by his lonesome.
-Nathaniel and Kitty almost die of laughing
-Nathaniel finally has a good day
-Bartimaeus and Queezle nearly die of laughing

Constructive critiscism, please!

...You do not have the gift, my son.

Did you just mix aspects of the Bartimaeus Trilogy (including Nathaniel/Kitty shipping, anti-Mandrake attitude, Bartimaeus/Queezle shipping) with Cold War aspects (including Soviet Russia, aka, "teh Motherland", and its onslaught) and with what seems to be character(s) from World War II (such as Winston Churchill)?

Wow. What a plot.

Post wrote: ...You do not have the gift, my son.

Do I? :P

Plot seems a little weak, might need to pep it up, and seems rather childish. Unless you meant for it to be.

You somewhat appeared to edit it, but not enough. But I can see some parts of satisfying, good writing.

It's meant to start of weak. Im kinda hurrying it along. Real action begins when the USSR invades Britain. And by action I mean plot action. And yes, this is kinda meant to be Cold War/Bartimaeus/WWII type thing. And the reason for churchill was because I really suck at making charcters up. I mean, I really suck at it. I just searched my mind for the name of a good P.M, and pulled Mr. Churchill's name out of a hat (I was wearing a hat at the time.) Plus, I'm very new to this. Fan-fiction that is. So, yeah. Also, if i spelled something wrong, say so.

Nero wrote: Do I? :P

Proabably.

Bad grammer is a sin. God, through his angel Bill Gates, has given us spell checkers for a reason.

Thou shalt not comma spray.

There's a spell checker? Where? Can't find it...just a bunch of emoticons and other functions.

What Post is saying is write it and spell check it in Word, then copy and paste.

Ah. I get it.