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FILL: Endure Me, Do Not Ask For Tidings 1/2sanguineheroineJune 13 2014, 15:36:51 UTC
The wild and frantic chorus of their voices echoing off their prison of iron and earth. The first sweet breath of freedom when Zeus unbarred the doors and their joyful hoof beats as they galloped away from the cliffs. Such a storm they made that night! Driving rain and warm, swirling winds and over it all Notus' savage howls of joy.
The sea swelled ever higher and fiercer until from the darkest and deepest trench a golden point broke through the foam and a thrumming song filled the air. Rich and steady was the song, with a pulsing hum like the rhythm of a living man's heart but no living man carried such a weapon, nor sang with the rolling voice of a shimmering summer sea. Never before had the East Wind heard Neptune’s voice but as it rose all around them even the wildness of Notus was tamed and Eurus knew
( ... )
Re: FILL: Endure Me, Do Not Ask For Tidings 2/2sanguineheroineJune 13 2014, 15:38:52 UTC
Mycroft was alone when John arrived and presumably unwatched. John presumed felt free to presume so at the sight of Mycroft leaning quietly against a pillar, shirtless and unglamoured. He was combing his fingers thoughtfully through golden pinion feathers, shaking loose smoking curls of warm air
( ... )
Re: FILL: Endure Me, Do Not Ask For Tidings - CodasanguineheroineJune 13 2014, 15:39:30 UTC
***
Sherlock goes back to the roof of Bart's sometimes. When the morning air is damp and cool and the Eastern sky is ruddy he likes to tip his face to the sky and wait for the West wind. Zephyrus is lost now, but the warm breeze smells like home.
Here, just before the light touches his skin, he can remember the feel of warm wind at his wing tips, warm raindrops in his mane and the sweet sound of his mother's caroling as she summoned her brother to the sky.
London's dawn carol is just growling engines and trains shrieking on their steel rails but he nevertheless bows politely to Helios as he ascends - twenty-five hundred odd years is no reason to disregard one's familial obligations - before walking slowly back down the stairs and back to Baker Street. When dawn broke on the morning after they returned from Dartmoor, John had already awakened and the steady thump of his heart was summoning Sherlock home. Perhaps, he thought, he would take John to the seaside today.
(Think so anyway half remembered stories with a quick wiki refresh.)
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The sea swelled ever higher and fiercer until from the darkest and deepest trench a golden point broke through the foam and a thrumming song filled the air. Rich and steady was the song, with a pulsing hum like the rhythm of a living man's heart but no living man carried such a weapon, nor sang with the rolling voice of a shimmering summer sea. Never before had the East Wind heard Neptune’s voice but as it rose all around them even the wildness of Notus was tamed and Eurus knew ( ... )
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Sherlock goes back to the roof of Bart's sometimes. When the morning air is damp and cool and the Eastern sky is ruddy he likes to tip his face to the sky and wait for the West wind. Zephyrus is lost now, but the warm breeze smells like home.
Here, just before the light touches his skin, he can remember the feel of warm wind at his wing tips, warm raindrops in his mane and the sweet sound of his mother's caroling as she summoned her brother to the sky.
London's dawn carol is just growling engines and trains shrieking on their steel rails but he nevertheless bows politely to Helios as he ascends - twenty-five hundred odd years is no reason to disregard one's familial obligations - before walking slowly back down the stairs and back to Baker Street.
When dawn broke on the morning after they returned from Dartmoor, John had already awakened and the steady thump of his heart was summoning Sherlock home. Perhaps, he thought, he would take John to the seaside today.
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