The challenge- Take the nearest book to you and write something with it in. Crossovers, fusions, or just someone is reading it or it is the murder weapon, or the title or a quote could be your prompt.
Bonus: no S/J (only because of my pairing preferences, feel free to ignore)
Book of the New Sun (NB: post-Reichenbach)
anonymous
November 13 2011, 22:51:24 UTC
They'd found Sherlock's Belstaff coat a little farther down the Aar, sodden and torn, tangled in a tree that grew near the edge of the water. Even if Sherlock had survived the fall, John knew, it would've dragged him down with its weight. In its pockets were Sherlock's cell phone, now past saving, and a wad of paper, covered in smudges that might have once been a note.
It's worthless now. They throw it all away.
---
Later, much later, after John turns to see a bookseller disappear and a Sherlock Holmes even more pale and sunken-cheeked than memory holds standing in his place, it occurs to him that the story of this disappearance doesn't seem quite right. Travelling, he says. Tracking down Moriarty's henchmen-- but it doesn't explain how his vocabulary's become peppered with odd terms that sound made-up, but when looked up turn out to be merely arcane. It doesn't explain the giant sword that's occasionally left in the bathroom, and how Sherlock's apparently learned to shave with it
( ... )
Re: Book of the New Sun (NB: post-Reichenbach)
anonymous
November 15 2011, 01:00:28 UTC
Author here...oops, I probably should have said: Book of the New Sun is a fantasy quartet by Gene Wolfe, beginning with The Shadow of the Torturer. If that sounds like something you'd be into (and I mean it about the tons of archaic words that sound made-up), certainly check it out!
Read Me Each Day (1/?)
anonymous
November 14 2011, 18:02:59 UTC
This is me typing. I will record exactly what I see. First. This laptop is two years old and purchased by someone who values function over budget, utility over looks, and proximity over utility. Proximity to what, I'm not sure, but I would guess field research, as there are chemical stains on the lid, an impact-resistant case, and gritty particulate in the keyboard. (It leaves a faint white residue on my fingertips. Now they glimmer like ground mica in the weak dawn.) The S, D, C, N, T, E, and R keys are worn, implying an English speaker (or -typer) with a heavy keystroke and high WPM rate
( ... )
Re: Read Me Each Day (2/?)
anonymous
November 14 2011, 19:27:05 UTC
My tea is getting cold because I'm typing, not drinking. The man insisted. He just brought me back upstairs and turned the laptop on for me. It automatically boots to a text program and opens a file called READ ME EACH DAY. I'm to read this entire screen of text before I come down again
( ... )
Read Me Each Day (4/?)
anonymous
November 15 2011, 19:35:34 UTC
He hung up. I looked calmly, decisively, and incisively down at my hands. They were trembling. Bloody hell. J..ames..ohn looked at his watch and fetched me two more pills. Then he told me to save the file I'm working on, stowed my laptop in a case, and handed me a heavy wool coat (top quality, perfect fit, lovely swish). He gave me an umbrella after I'd put the coat on. I dropped it and backed away. This is hard to explain. The umbrella looked like a patch of moving blackness. When I had it in my hand, my hand vanished. After I dropped it, my hand reappeared. I have no rational explanation for this, but fortunately I didn't seem to need to provide one, as J picked it up himself with a wry grimace
( ... )
Read Me Each Day (5/?)
anonymous
November 26 2011, 23:13:47 UTC
J didn't explain why we were going to Battersea in the company of police, but I didn't ask; I found his silence restful. Too much so; I dozed off in the car (NOTE: coffee -- where??) but jolted awake when we bumped off the tarmac and slid into a roughly gravelled lot. We parked between a police van and a pile of brick building rubble, so fresh it smoked with dust when the wind stirred it, and got out of the car -- J calmly, me admittedly less so. A cop in a slicker was pacing off the perimeter with crime scene tape. Two techs wrestled sodium vapour lamps and stands out of the van. A few people stood some thirty yards distant, gathered around, oh God, what looked to be an actual body on the ground. Obviously a crime scene, and a spanking fresh one at that. Utter delight
( ... )
Bonus: no S/J (only because of my pairing preferences, feel free to ignore)
Reply
It's worthless now. They throw it all away.
---
Later, much later, after John turns to see a bookseller disappear and a Sherlock Holmes even more pale and sunken-cheeked than memory holds standing in his place, it occurs to him that the story of this disappearance doesn't seem quite right. Travelling, he says. Tracking down Moriarty's henchmen-- but it doesn't explain how his vocabulary's become peppered with odd terms that sound made-up, but when looked up turn out to be merely arcane. It doesn't explain the giant sword that's occasionally left in the bathroom, and how Sherlock's apparently learned to shave with it ( ... )
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I don't know the book, but I'm intrigued!
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(The comment has been removed)
Thanks for your support. This is going strange places. Also I have an exchange fic due Friday and this isn't even supposed to BE here.
Book reveal at the end; author is mentioned elseprompt but is probably not well-known. I thought it would be too spoilery.
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Thanks for your support. This is going strange places. Also I have an exchange fic due Friday and this isn't even supposed to BE here.
Book reveal at the end; author is mentioned elseprompt but is probably not well-known. I thought it would be too spoilery.
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IT INCLUDES DONOVAN, IF THAT MAKES A DIFFERENCE.
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