1. The Marvellous Adventures of Sebastian Scarlett1. The Marvellous Adventures of Sebastian Scarlett3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"I truly believe that the adventures in our lives are only as marvellous as we make them."
~ Captain Alexandros Scarlett in his journal.
Sebastian Scarlett lay on the ground, his face pressed into the musty, coarse earth of the notorious Taric Plains. His left arm was slowly going numb, and he regretted placing it under his heavy, alert body. Gritting his teeth, he hoped that the attack would start before he lost use of his arm completely. Not far away from him, he could see the leather boot of one of the crew members. Sebastian could not remember his name, but prayed that whoever it was could fight well enough to not let him down when they charged. Sebastian glanced up, casting his eyes over the faint coils of smoke rising from the enemy camp. It would be an adrenaline filled 200 meter sprint to reach their opponents. Nestled in crude army issued tents, they were waiting, oblivious to the small yet plucky threat that had mustered in the sparse woods beside them. Captain Alexand
Untitled Sherlock/Doctor Who crossover - Part 1It's in his pocket.Untitled Sherlock/Doctor Who crossover - Part 13 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
An old fob watch hanging on a silver chain, clinging with all its might to the woolen fabric as if afraid of losing its owner.
The owner himself does not pay it much mind. He never looks at it it is unnecessary it is just a watch and it is a good weight there in his pocket keeping him grounded when his mind goes out of his head and is soaring somewhere in cosmos collecting facts and theories.
No, he doesn't need to look at it. His nimble fingers have run its edges sharp and have traced the delicate pattern countless times over the years. They know every curve, every line and they will never reveal this secret to another person, another human. This is his and it will stay that way, hidden within the depths of his coat and giving him a sense of home, however mad that sounds to his own ears. You can't have home in a clock.
A Theory in Sleep Deprivation: BBC Sherlock FanficIt had been a trying day at the surgery, and as John walked up the steps to his, no, their, flat, he had a feeling that whatever was in that flat was not going to help him in the slightest.A Theory in Sleep Deprivation: BBC Sherlock Fanfic3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It had been five months since Sherlock's return. After he had explained everything to a very confused, poignant, and belligerent John what the nature of his actions had been, and what he had accomplished in the three years past, John was more or less okay with the new situation. Well, things didn't go as smoothly as Sherlock had hoped they would because John at the time was thoroughly convinced that he was either going off the mend, or the victim of some cruel joke. John had gone so far as to kick Sherlock out of the flat, only to let him back in the next day, broken and on the verge of tears whilst explaining the cause of his unstable behavior. Sherlock's return had most certainly been shocking, almost horrific for John. But, it was as if he had been awoken from some kind of
Disclosure Chp 2"Sherlock! You've got a visitor." Mrs. Hudson shouted from downstairs. The only reason they can hear her is because the door is open.Disclosure Chp 23 years ago in Sci-Fi More Like This
Now they don't typically leave it open, they like their privacy. However John insisted on opening it along with several windows to air out the flat from Sherlock's most recent experiments involving sulfur and acid of some sort that made for a very foul smelling combination when heated and applied to wood.
Sherlock tried to explain it's relevancy to a cold case the Lestrade had given him to abate boredom, but he was to pissed off to listen.
He also insisted that Sherlock pay for the new table, because he refused to eat off of one that had a large, blackened hole in it.
At Mrs. Hudson's call John snapped his laptop shut from where he was writing a blog entry, before straightening up, presuming the visitor to be a potential client.
Sherlock didn't stir from his own laptop, too busy hastily recording the data from the experiment to be bothered. John let out
Smith and Holmes Chapter 1AUTHOR'S NOTE: for Sherlock, this is set after the resolution of the Reichenbach Fall, so there will be no deliberate spoilers, save one or two lines which contain a small nod to the cliff-hanger and for The Doctor, this is set after The Doctor, The Widow and The Wardrobe, so no major spoilers at all.Smith and Holmes Chapter 13 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
CHAPTER 1: Meeting
"I hate you, you know."
"I know you do, but please put that aside and help us with this case."
If you ever see Sherlock Holmes he is either A) Bored, B) Annoyed or C) Frustrated. At this moment in time he was now dragged over to Nashville, Tennessee to help Lestrade with a very perplexing murder case, just two days after "returning". Even Sherlock Holmes misses his bed.
"Right," began Dr John Watson, Holmes' companion and regular blogger of their adventures. "Victim is in his late twenties, Caucasian; preliminary findings see no stab or gunshot wound so C.O.D. is internal; possible drug overdose "
"We checked his medical records," Lestrade said. "He wasn't t
Untitled Sherlock/Doctor Who crossover - Part 3When the door closes, that is when the vibrations start.Untitled Sherlock/Doctor Who crossover - Part 33 years ago in Sci-Fi More Like This
It starts as a gentle humming inside the watch which quickly rises in velocity into a desperate, deafening rhythm "Open me open me open me openme openme openme openmeopenmeopenme!" the four beats command.
Sherlock Holmes scrutinizes the contraption before his eyes, taking anew all the details in the design, every line, every indentation. Inside his palm, under his watchful eye and spilling out between his fingers golden tendrils whiff around the now quiet watch, painting kaleidoscope patterns in the air only to vaporise again.
The tendrils reach out to him, like a child silently begging to be lifted up. But they cannot reach. They hover inches over the watch. Waiting. The beating has stopped but he still recalls the command.
And with a snap the watch is open.
It wastes no time. The tendrils rush to his face, cruel hands that they are. As they touch him, seep into his skin, every cell is being twisted, re-awakened an
Untitled Sherlock/Doctor Who crossover - part 2It is afterwards when Molly has helped him because he needed her that the old chain finally decides to give way and the fob watch clatters to the floor.Untitled Sherlock/Doctor Who crossover - part 23 years ago in Drama More Like This
For a moment he stands there, transfixed, eyes upon the watch.
Except that he isn't really looking. Not at it. His eyes are darting over the chain, the broken link, the spot on the floor right next to the watch and then Molly's fingers as she gingerly takes it up and runs her sleeve over it, wiping imagined dust away.
"It is beautiful," she whispers and wraps his hands around it, her fingers still interlaced in the chain.
When there is no reaction from him, she dares the question, "Does it open?", a slight awe to her voice. He abruptly looks at her, gazes into her wide eyes and the thought crosses his mind that her eyes should be blue. Or perhaps it is that his should be brown?
He shakes it off and answers as if reciting a line: "It is broken. It is an old relic."
"Oh," she says, a little disap
Anniversary BluesIt's River's first wedding anniversary since her last kiss with the Doctor. She's not handling it well.Anniversary Blues3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"She's in there," the sweating man waved at the bar. "She's crazy! Unfortunately, she's also a good shot."
"What set her off?"
"Hell if I know," the little man rubbed his bald pate. "She came in looking like she wanted to drown her sorrows, and next thing I know she's shooting shit out of my bar!"
The tall man patted him on the shoulder, "I'll see what I can do."
He walked into a smoking rubble of a bar. Tables were turned over, drinks spilled, bottles shattered, glass crunched under foot.
He found her sitting in the corner, back to the wall, a whining gun in one hand, and a half-empty bottle of Tequila in the other. From the evidence on the table it wasn't the first.
"River," he muttered calmingly.
She looked wired, her eyes electric, as dangerous as someone with nothing to lose. She shot at him. The bolt sizzled over his shoulder, close enough that he felt the heat of i
Disclosure Chp 3For the next thirty minutes Mycroft answers John's numerous questions. He tells him about Sherlock first few days as human and how he coordinated everything to create false memories.Disclosure Chp 33 years ago in Sci-Fi More Like This
He tells John about a man, well Time Lord, called the Doctor who brought Sherlock to Earth. He's one of the remaining Time Lords and he found Sherlock as a stowaway on a Dalek ship.
Daleks apparently being some strange machine-like aliens with very violent tendencies. He explained the inherent feud between Time Lords and Daleks that no one really knows the origin of and the fact that the Doctor was attempting to disable their ship when he spotted the dark haired teen and rescued him.
"And how did Sherlock end up on the ship?" John questions.
"Even the Doctor doesn't know. Sherlock refused to tell him." Mycroft answers, thinly concealing the exasperated fondness in his tone. Really it's so like the Sherlock they know.
"But it's of no consequence really. After they escaped he brought Sherlock to Earth." Mycr
Age 11- Summer (Request Wholock)Age 11- SummerAge 11- Summer (Request Wholock)3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He'd been exploring the woods outside their summer house when he first heard that wheezing. It was an odd sound, like the whirring of a machine mixed with a winded cough. The wind suddenly picked up around him, ruffling the grass at his feet. Without a moment's hesitation, he ran for the sound.
Finally, something to break the monotony, he grinned, then stopped. In the middle of the small clearing stood an old blue police box. He blinked. No one really used police boxes anymore, and even that fact didn't explain what it was doing sitting in the middle of the woods. Cautiously he stepped forward and touched it. It seemed to....vibrate? That's not possible, how could a police box vibrate?
"Hello!" He jumped about a foot and half backwards at the voice and looked up. A strange man had poked his head out of the door, floppy brown hair cut in a sort of fringe pushed to the side and a goofy grin on his face. But it was his eyes that drew the young boy, those dark
Welcome Home - DrarryI walked down the all too familiar street. I was surprised by how much the same everything looked despite it having been several years since I had been here. But I had my eyes on one house that towered over the others at the end of the street, a huge manor, that I knew from some experience was not nearly as unwelcoming and foreboding on the inside as it looked on the outside.Welcome Home - Drarry6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
I stopped and sat down on a bench when I was maybe a block away to run over my plan. Wait plan? What plan? I had no plan! This was completely stupid. Why was I doing this? Would Draco even still love me? I still loved him, but that didn't mean that he hadn't found someone else to move on with his life with when I hadn't come back. Not wanting to think these disturbing thoughts, I sat back, closed my eyes, and let past memories wash over me, starting from Draco and my first kiss.
I was lying in a tree, eyes closed, relaxing after a grueling Potions test, when I heard a voice break through my p
Grave DiggerGrave DiggerGrave Digger3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Hints of Mystrade and Johnlock. Because I'm that fan.
This was a request for RJL7983, on DeviantART, who requested a story where Sherlock finds an alien spacecraft. Just remember, everyone, things aren't always what they seem .but sometimes, they're exactly that .
John Watson groaned and opened his eyes slowly. He looked around. Huh. That was funny. What was he doing in a car? The light was on. He looked around it a bit more, inspecting it. It looked like one of Mycroft's. He couldn't remember much-had he borrowed it? Maybe.
The radio was on. Static crackled over the song playing, which was Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen. Groaning at the sound, Watson shut it off and looked around. It was very dark outside.
He began to roll down the window, but let out a small cry as rocks and earth fell through the partially opened window. He hurriedly rolled it back up.
Why did his neck hurt? He rubbed it with the back of his hand and winced in pain. That s
The Girl of WaxMy name is Sophie. My hobby? Well, I have quite a strange hobby, I'll admit. But it started so long ago, when I was younger. Let me take you back to that innocent time, that time when nothing mattered and all the small things were important. That time of blissful ignorance is where it all started, just weeks after my seventh birthday.The Girl of Wax3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Sophie!"Uncle Jaime shouted down the basement steps. The basement was really his candle making workshop, and I knew of a special hiding place where he would not find me.
I hid there.
His heavy footsteps thudded down the old wooden steps, some of the steps creaking and groaning in protest, until he hit the basement floor. Uncle Jaime's work boots made less noise on the concrete floor."Sophie, are you down here? Your mother called."
Still I waited behind the big silver can, carefully avoiding the surface of the thing. It was very hot, powered by cables plugged into the wall. I avoided those too.
"Well I'll be. Guess she's somewhere upstairs," he muttered.
Smith and Holmes Chapter 3CHAPTER 3: The Game in the ShadowsSmith and Holmes Chapter 33 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"What was that?"
"Rat or something?"
In a dark, isolated warehouse, vermin are an eventual possibility. But there were none here tonight. Well, there were no signs of 'traditional vermin'.
What the Master, the boss and the coronel classify as vermin were in fact present, hidden in the shadows.
"This is where they're hiding?" John asked.
"The TARDIS has tracked them to this building, so it's safe to assume they are here," The Doctor answered.
"So," began Sherlock, "we have the location, the plan: all we need now is the culprit. But first; information. Who is he, The Master?"
"One of my kind; a Time Lord. The most dangerous. His only prospect is to live up to his title. Master of every living thing."
"So what happened to him?" John inquired.
"Last time I met him, he planned on bringing my people back from the dead. He was sent back with them."
"So how can he get back?"
"There is a small gap of time in which he can live before he dies.
Alessa"Witch! Witch!"Alessa5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Mommy Im scared
"Let me show you little girl"
Mommy Im scared
"We destroy the sin not the sinner"
Mommy Im scared
"What have I done?"
Mommy Im scared
"Praise the Lord!"
Mommy Im scared
"Fire! Theres fire!"
Mommy Im scared
"My baby! My baby!"
Mommy Im scared
"Get her to Alchemilla"
Mommy Im scared
"Her vitals are low"
Mommy Im scared
"Ill help if you want"
Mommy Im scared
Mommy...Dont be scared
To Melt Ice- For RJL7983It's early morning, the sun just barely revealing its light above the treetops. You step outside, breath misting in the cold, watching the dark blue sky fade to its daylight shade. Smiling at the familiar sight, you see the half moon making an appearance still. A perfect start to winter break. Pulling on your 'snow chains for shoes', the fifteen minute trek begins.To Melt Ice- For RJL79833 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Arriving at your sanctuary pleasantly warm and somewhat sweaty, off come the snow-boots, revealing white woolen socks with polka dots. You don a well-worn pair of skates and step onto the iced-over pond. Rearranging the camera strap around your neck, you begin to move.
"Aaah," you think to yourself, as the newborn calf feeling in your legs dissipate, "this is bliss."
There's nothing but you and the ice, the feeling in your legs as you move, hands clasped around your camera, holding it tight. That camera contains many memories for you, it's captured all things, both good and bad. Eventually, you reach the spot you're s
TimeTime to laugh,Time4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Time to cry,
Time to lie,
Time to choke,
Time to die.
Hours come and go humbly on,
When singers sing their song,
Axes hack and swords slash,
As minions pray for mercy,
Under your benevolent smile.
Time to sigh,
Time to fly,
Time to sail,
Time to flail,
Time to dine.
Minutes pass into seconds past,
As black cats prowl with claws so sharp,
With harpys playing a harp so fair,
With white blossoms of a cherry tree,
Snow white in the wisps of their hair.
A is for anomalous orphansA is for anomalous orphans3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A is for anomalous orphans
Neglected and alone
Escewted, they stand hither
Aghast and tormented
But if thee art not to pity them
They pick hence at thy bone
Valentine's Day WhouffleA lot of the other teachers hated Valentine's Day because of the distractions it caused, but Clara thought it was rather sweet. All the students walking around with flowers and cards, smiling and laughing - everyone just generally happy. Of course, there were those who didn't enjoy it quite as much, but even they couldn't deny the atmosphere of the day.Valentine's Day Whouffle6 months ago in Romance More Like This
The bell rang for the end of class and the start of lunch, and the students started packing up. At her desk, Clara started gathering together the mess of test papers she'd been marking.
"Remember, for homework," she called over the ruckus of movement. "Read pages 23 to 45, ready to discuss next lesson."
There were a few groans from the students as they filed out of the classroom, but Clara expected it from this particular class. Getting to her feet and stretching, she began to pack her stuff away. She had one more class after lunch, but that was half an hour away. She pulled on a cardigan over her blue scoop-neck dress and picked up her
Alice Le'Rein Faurin BeorchName: Alice Le'Rein Faurin BeorchAlice Le'Rein Faurin Beorch3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Birthday: December 19, 1990
Likes: Wood, Candles, Light Scents, Night Time, and Factories.
Dislikes: Arachnids, Popular people, Bullies, Anyone who is not willing to help her.
Hair Color: Reddish Tan Blonde
Eye Color: Perfect Green
Skin Color: Tan
Descents: 41% British, 20% Polish, 10% Irish, 4% Cherokee Indian, 25% Canadian
Orientation: Straight, but gets easily intimidated by girls who are 'prettier' than her.
Favorite Colors: Blue, Black, White, and Grey.
Least Favorite Colors: Pink, Yellow, and Purple.
Mom ~ Layla Elizabeth Rue-Beorch
Dad ~ Scott Dean Beorch
Grandma ~ Elda Rue
Aunt ~ Maraeyh Lea Beorch
((This will be extended))
Personality: Alice is definetly a born to be Tomboy. She doesn't mind getting down and dirty. She is often quiet though. She thinks about suicidal intentions but doesn't dare to. She has failed a few times in her life, and is diagnosed with Depression. She often goes outside to take a walk to keep her mind of
Smith and Holmes Chapter 4CHAPTER 4: One Month LaterSmith and Holmes Chapter 43 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Detective Inspector Lestrade was walking down the footpath of Baker Street on a bright sunny morning. Nothing major in the police reports today. He decided to take a longer lunch break. He remembered that there was a café below Sherlock's apartment, and he never tried it. Today, he decided to chance it.
"Oh, hello there," he heard as he walked in through the doorway. The source of the voice was the owner of the café and its apartments above.
"Hello, Mrs Hudson isn't it?" replied Lestrade.
"That's right. If you're looking for the boys, they'll be around shortly."
"Okay. Any chance of a coffee?"
Greg took a table at the back of the building and started into his coffee. Just as he finished the beverage, two men walked into the restaurant. Two men who Lestrade instantly recognised.
"Well, I doubt if Lestrade's division would be able to cover up something that big, let alone the FBI. Oh, speak of the devil. Hello, Greg."
"Afternoon, John, Sherlock,
The Black RoseIn between such delicate fingertips;The Black Rose4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She holds the blackest of roses,
And the dark petals brush her lips.
Her sombre shadow across her face,
Describes the bleakest of life's loses.
Such sweet scent floating in the air;
She breathes in the aroma of the black rose,
That scarlet stem entwines in her raven hair.
Her enchanting eyes are but a glaze,
Those wells of happiness have all but froze.
Thorns of iron dig into her soft skin;
She screams from the pain of that bloody rose,
With it's intoxication of simplistic sin.
Her haunting presence brings haste,
To a silence of a death nearing close.
Smith and Holmes Chapter 2CHAPTER 2: The LeadSmith and Holmes Chapter 23 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"So why are we here, Doctor?"
"I have a hunch this is where he'll be next."
"Use your head and think."
The Tennessee State Museum was quiet tonight. Mainly, due to the fact it was closed. The Doctor managed to get them in using the Sonic Screwdriver, which John seemed very impressed with. Sherlock, however, took one sharp look at it and noted the few but important flaws of it. Including
"YES, I KNOW IT DOSEN'T WORK ON WOOD!" the Time Lord whispered loudly.
"Plus the fact it can be interfered with by a simple hairdryer "
"Do you ever stop?"
"I've been hoping for an answer for that one for two years," John added. "No results, yet."
Despite it being one of the major tourist spots for American historians, the security was low tonight. Even with the new exhibit.
"So have you deduced why we are here yet Sherlock?"
"The murder, you believe, is going to attempt to break into the state museum to steal the "on tour" diamond recovered from a mansion in Englan