look at me still talking when there's science to do

(from something I left in ginny_t's journal, as she was looking for character backstory:)

Mikhail Petrovitch was technically a lackey, but it was more through intense admiration than anything akin to a need to serve. He had learned early in life that hitching yourself to someone destined for greatness was a lot easier if you did it on the way up - loyalty and forward momentum were able to carry you through the rough patches that way.
So Mik fetched the slurpees and drove Schuyler home after one too many scotches made him surrender the keys to his precious little Fiat and watched in admiration as Schuyler cut reel after reel of utterly brilliant film. He put orange juice in the slurpees to ward off malnutrition (which Schuyler then turned around and spiked with vodka) and dealt with the mundanities of ordering pizza and paying rent and tried to swallow the worry in the back of his throat that said that maybe his beloved boss-man shouldn't be drinking so many scotches - telling himself that boss-man was a genius. That was what geniuses did, after all - look at Hemingway or Fitzgerald or Kubrick.
And it worked, for a little while, anyway.

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I have about five minutes to finish this and my coffee and get ready to go to Teh Evil Group Thing. Fortunately this is the second last Evil Group Thing, as they managed to get everything more or less squared away to start Sean in the twice-per-week-group starting the last week of September. And we will definitely say 'yay'.
Longer letter later. Or somethin'.