[x]

"Yeah. Okay. That's fine, I'll be there in a bit." John sighed as he ended his phone call and grabbed his jacket.

"Who was that?" Sherlock set down his culture tray and leaned against the doorframe into the kitchen, watching John prepare to leave.

"A correctional officer," John grumbled, "Harry's got herself another DUI and needs me to bail her out. I only hope it doesn't overdraw my account."

Sherlock stalked into his bedroom, returning with his chequebook in hand. He signed the topmost cheque and handed it to John. "Use this if you need to," he told him with a pat on the shoulder, "My account should still be bloated from the insurance pa

Oneword: Popcorn

A pounding of feet down the stairs, and John was rushing his way around the flat to hurriedly prepare for work. He was late, but still paused for a moment to sigh in dismay at the state of the sitting room. The couch was a mess, with blankets strewn about everywhere, the telly still on (with a blank screen left over after the DVD player had turned itself off), and an entire bucket of popcorn was spilled and lightly strewn about the floor. It looked almost as though Sherlock had left in as much of a hurry as John was in now.

The weary doctor headed out to work, considering suitable punishments for the mess Sherlock had left behind. The popcor

Giveaway prompt: Midnight

John awoke in the small bed-and-breakfast, his heart still pounding at the sounds of gunfire that his brain had conjured up. A quick glance at his watch (illuminated by the solid moonbeam from the window) told him that it was just a few minutes past midnight. Sherlock was nowhere to be seen, and his coat was missing from the rack near the door.

John frowned and stuffed his feet into his shoes unceremoniously, wrapping his jacket around his pajamas before heading out into the hall to search for Sherlock. A quick glance around told him that the mysterious detective must have made it all the way outside, so with a shudder of anticipation at the

Giveaway prompt: Glass

Returning from work, John frowned a bit as he ascended the stairs to the sound of Sherlock wearily calling out from the sitting room, "Johnnn. John. Jawn. Jooohhhhnnn."

John climbed the last stair with a sigh, "What, Sherlock."

"I'm cold. I'm bored and I'm cold and it's dreadful." The man was halfway stooped over, leaning against the window with a dead look upon his face, which was pressed firmly against the glass. His breath had not only fogged on the surface, but had started to frost around the edges where it had been there too long.

"How long have you been there, calling my name?" John came over and tugged Sherlock away from the window,

Giveaway prompt: Marathon

John watched in amusement as Sherlock and their client jogged around the sidewalk loop in the park. Sherlock had left his coat with John, sleeves rolled up as he kept pace with Henry, the insurance CEO, training to participate in the upcoming marathon next month. He was putting on a front, Sherlock had told John, by running the 5000km for charity donations. The two were now engaged in breathless conversation, exchanging details and advice. As the businessman's training session came to a close, he slowed and stopped near John's bench, tipping his entire torso back to drink energetically from a water bottle. Sherlock was right on his tail, and

Oneword: Crescent

Sherlock awoke to the smell of something delicious. Butter, at the very least, and perhaps something chocolate? The oven was filling the flat with an enticing aroma which had Sherlock instantly out of bed and into the kitchen (thankfully remembering to put on a robe first). John had just removed a tray from the oven, lined with sixteen perfectly-browned crescent rolls, drizzled with melted chocolate. The very steam rising from their crisp surface seemed divine.

"Ah, you're up," John smiled as Sherlock poked his head into the kitchen, already fixated on the sweets, "I was just fixing breakfast." He indicated a freshly-cleared table, covered w

Blood Fury - Part 3

Sherlock POV

I was grateful to get out of the cab. Being so close to John. It was unbearable. Every time we got in a cab together. Every goddam time. I didn't know what I wanted more. Him or his blood. I prayed for the former. Prayed like hell.
I knew exactly where we were. It was the park. My usual hunting ground. It looked even worse in the daytime. I pretended like I had never been there before. It was easy, just look at everything. John was looking around too. Lestrade had joined us where the cab stopped. His car was parked on the curve of the street. The street where I met Isla. Police were scattered along the street, talking to each o

Blood Fury - Part 5

Sherlock POV

John was at work. I was at the flat. I stared into the mirror, and my reflection stared back. Ever since I had changed I never recognised that man in the mirror. A familiar stranger, so to speak. He didn't look human. But people are so naive; they refuse to see what's right in front of them. We have tried to show them the truth, but they just won't believe it. Because we're not in the 'natural order', because we're not meant to exist, they discriminate us. That was the past. I could only imagine what would happen if we revealed ourselves in these days, with the media and all.
It had been a day since Isla's death. The killer was

Giveaway prompt: Spoon

John sighed when he saw Sherlock sprawled out over all three of the couch cushions, covered in no less than two blankets, his head propped on the arm rest as he stared, glassy-eyed with boredom at the talk-show program currently prattling away through the night. John hadn't been able to get back to sleep after his most recent nightmare (an afghani child, half his body blown away and bleeding profusely). He had sat in bed for a while, trying to forget the look of horror and pain which had remained burned in the backs of his eyes, just listening to the sounds of the city at night, and the muffled talking of the telly downstairs. After awhile, h

Blood Fury - Part 2

John's POV

I had no idea what time it was when I awoke. I was grateful it was my day off from work, but I knew Sherlock would be forcing me to do something. I opened my eyes and stared up at the wall. How strange Sherlock had acted the previous night. Then again, he was strange all round. I sat upright on the edge of my bed and yawned and stretched. I looked up at the clock. 9 am. Not too bad.

Sherlock was lying on the sofa when I wandered into the lounge room. Well, not exactly lying. He was upside down with his feet resting on the wall. His eyes were closed and his arms were crossed.
"Morning," I said.
"Morning John," Sherlock replied.

Blood Fury - Part 1

Sherlock's POV

I have grown a certain hatred for night time television. It was dull, boring, predictable. I had no idea what I was watching. Some new cooking show. It was elimination night. I had already figured out who was going too eliminated. Simple.
I was curled up on the sofa chair. I rested my head on my knees. John was behind me at the desk, typing his blog. I had distaste for his blog, but it had given me some new clients, which meant more interesting cases. I turned my head to the left ever so slightly, just enough to see him in my peripheral vision. I saw him smile. His dimples appeared. I couldn't see what he was so amused about.

Giveaway prompt: Elementary

John supposed he should have been less surprised when Moriarty resurfaced. After all, if Sherlock had been able to so convincingly fake his own death, then it stood to reason that the feat was not out of Moriarty's range of capabilities. In the days that followed, Sherlock had been running on a wild goose chase, hunting down every last clue which could possibly bring him closer. After all, his time apart from John, ensuring his safety from those few snipers still loyal to Moriarty, would all be for naught if the mastermind had managed to build up his web again.

Sherlock was pacing anxiously through the flat, flipping through a chemistry text

Oneword: Weave

Sherlock ducked behind a newspaper bin. Had he been seen? A moment passed, two, then a shot rang out in his direction. The pedestrians surrounding him panicked and fled, ducking indoors or into their cars, or just running down the street. Sherlock joined the en-masse fleeing, but ducked into an alley before any stray shots caused casualties to those still on the main street.

Rapid footsteps and another gunshot told him that his quarry (now his assailant) wasn't far behind. Sherlock did his best to dodge and weave, though it probably would not pose a challenge to the trained sniper. Finally, a wall which Sherlock was only just tall enough to

Giveaway prompt: Peacock

Sherlock pouted silently in his armchair, the violin in his arms seemingly forgotten as he watched John flit around the flat, preparing excitedly for his upcoming date. Not that he'd said anything to Sherlock, thinking that a non-mention of the event was a non-invitation, that perhaps it would keep his friend from interfering, just once…

Sherlock sighed, resigned to spend the night alone with his kitchen lab set. He silently agreed with John's silent hope, but JUST this once. He knew that the poor doctor had his needs, and as such felt compelled to seek out women with whom those needs could be met. Sherlock shuddered to think of what ha

Giveaway prompt: Sonata

John had finally settled in with his laptop and a fresh mug of tea, ready to relax for the rest of the night and update his blog. A fresh coat of snow was slowly making its way down through the black sky, a soft fog creeping in at the sides of the window which Sherlock stood at, an equally calm expression on his face as his bow sang through the piece he'd been remembering for the past five minutes or so. Tartini's violin sonata in G minor had been his pick of the night, a somber but soothing piece famous for its trills. Sherlock lost himself in thought and the music, the two combining into one as his reflections on the freshly-solved case fel

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Oneword: Pattern

by ~floppybelly, Mar 16, 2012, 6:19:57 AM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / Fantasy / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

John winced on behalf of Sherlock as they approached the crime scene; the smell of rot was ripe throughout the lobby, the voices of several panicked guests echoed around the giant aquarium centerpiece where the body had been dumped, and the walls and carpet were covered in clashing textures which would make even a mute sick. John reached out to steady Sherlock's mind, though the well-controlled Sentinal hardly needed it. He was already focusing in on the relevant details and assessing the situation. John was swept up in his excitement for something new and interesting, but what exactly it was, John would have to wait and see.
The guests were beginning to stare at the two-man detective team instead of at the body now, their stress running higher at the sight of the sentinel amongst them. John threw his shields up around himself and Sherlock, willing the mutes to look away.
Surely enough, their gaze began to slide from one gaudy pattern to the other, eventually forgetting what they had been looking at in the first place. The detective and his precious Guide slid into obscurity, leaving them free to gather data without fear of interference.

Oneword: Patternby ~floppybelly

Literature / Prose / Fiction / Fantasy / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

I just finished reading through Chameleon, so I thought I'd try my hand at it today. Preview image is by Reapersun!

~YoshiKyubi Oct 13, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Wait.. I don´t remember this scene up until chapter 14... and I can´t find the other chapters...

Where are they? I wanna go onr eading!!!!! Q_Q

Or is this story not finished and you wrote that? o.O

~floppybelly Oct 23, 2012 Hobbyist Artisan Crafter

I have no idea what you're asking. Chameleon is written by Velvet-Mace, I just extrapolated on the universe she built with it. It's a fan-fiction of a fan-fiction.

~YoshiKyubi Oct 24, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Oh, ok...

I thought the text you wrote was an extract from a chapter.
Sorry. >.<

!OliveTheBreloom May 2, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

I'm going to comment again, okay?
Okay.

I really like this ficlet, John and Sherlock's dynamic here is just wonderful, they make a wonderful duo in almost any form. (Be it detective and doctor, Empath and Sense-freak.... whatever)

~floppybelly May 3, 2012 Hobbyist Artisan Crafter

I will never say no to more comments! :>

!OliveTheBreloom Mar 28, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

This is actually a really nice chameleon-esque ficlet.

~floppybelly Mar 28, 2012 Hobbyist Artisan Crafter

I hesitate to do any more before the story gets much further!

!OliveTheBreloom Mar 28, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

It's updated recently.

~floppybelly Mar 29, 2012 Hobbyist Artisan Crafter

Chapter 13? Yeah, I've read it, but I meant more of a finished state.

!OliveTheBreloom Mar 29, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Ah, yes.

Well- at least we can look forward to it- right?
(Personally, I'm hoping the Swatsonlock isn't graphic and they platonically bond instead)

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Oneword: Patternby ~floppybelly

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