Writing stuff
15 May 2010 13:46![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cog_nomen6.8k words down now for 'The Weird One', an as yet untitled Sherlock Holmes fic that is... well just strange. It is close to completion, with most of the key points written and the rest plotted, it's just the plod of interconnection and fleshing out scenes from there.
I have some couple hundred words on 'Governesses Named Mary,' A Holmes/ Mary Poppins crossover that, ironically, isn't the weird one in my mind.
Of course there's SPN/Due South which is currently 5.3k transcribed and some pages more of notes that I haven't transcribed yet.
I'm doing a little concept stuff for my Final Fantasy Big Bang piece, which will be a prequel of sorts to Castle on the Sand, featuring Vincent and Veld and promising to be a giant blast of sarcasm and bland insults to write.
(Sherlock Holmes, Holmes/Watson, as yet untitled.)
The first blatant lie I committed to paper, as a method originally of self-placation and comfort, was on the eve of that darkest day of my life - that lie that many have undoubtedly read and believed within the text of The Final Problem, as that 'adventure' came to be titled when finally I had wrung from it most of my desperate emotion to make it suitable for publication.
This first lie was that no bodies were found at the foot of Reichenbach falls, as I most shamefully wrote that both of them were lost forever in the rapids at the foot. Indeed, neither was, and here I commit the truth of the matter - I found the pulverized forms of both the Professor Moriarty and my greatest friend, Sherlock Holmes, dashed to lifelessness on the rocks at the foot of the falls.
(SPN/Due south X-over, as yet untitled.)
The first time Dean and Cas had to have 'the talk', it was because Cas had just popped right into existence within the five most convenient feet of of him. Castiel didn't seem more than the smallest bit surprised at the spray from the shower - but Dean's startled - and he might admit girlish yelp, because come on no one expects angels in their shower not even when they signed up for the whole God vs. the apocalypse thing, Deans yelp confused Castiel. He just stood there, alternately being wet and not wet, as if just as soon as his clothes sticking to him became a great big, messy bother, he willed them dry again.
He asked his question with his expression rather than aloud, head canted, without bothering to do the smart thing if he wanted to stay dry, which was to get out of the shower. Dean gulps air, waiting for his heartbeat to slow to within the speed limit.
"Cas." He says, firmly, glad he hadn't slipped and broken his neck when he'd jumped.
Castiel seems to learn some lessons of humanity more soundly than others, because he at least has the sense to look scolded by the tone - though he's obviously not certain why he should be. Admonished Castiel is subtle, even though he doesn't move, his presence seems to shift away a little. His attention drifts downward instead of sidelong. Dean almost feels bad about it, before he remembers that he's naked, in the shower, and Castiel is not even just in the room with him, but standing cozily on this side of the curtain. Not even Cas' angelic powers of social awkwardness made that okay.
"Okay." Dean says, trying not to be upset. "Okay, outside the shower curtain, Cas. Not in it, outside."
Governesses Named Mary, Sherlock Holmes/Mary Poppins x-over.
"Watson has some past experience with Governesses named Mary, and therefore his help in this matter will be quite invaluable." Holmes looked amusedly in my direction, as if begging my patience in the matter.
"Really, Holmes." I had begun to protest the gentle barb at my marriage, but he continued, his voice raising to conquer mine as our excitable clients looked back and forth between us, trying to track a conversation that was tricky with the ease of old friendship.
I have some couple hundred words on 'Governesses Named Mary,' A Holmes/ Mary Poppins crossover that, ironically, isn't the weird one in my mind.
Of course there's SPN/Due South which is currently 5.3k transcribed and some pages more of notes that I haven't transcribed yet.
I'm doing a little concept stuff for my Final Fantasy Big Bang piece, which will be a prequel of sorts to Castle on the Sand, featuring Vincent and Veld and promising to be a giant blast of sarcasm and bland insults to write.
(Sherlock Holmes, Holmes/Watson, as yet untitled.)
The first blatant lie I committed to paper, as a method originally of self-placation and comfort, was on the eve of that darkest day of my life - that lie that many have undoubtedly read and believed within the text of The Final Problem, as that 'adventure' came to be titled when finally I had wrung from it most of my desperate emotion to make it suitable for publication.
This first lie was that no bodies were found at the foot of Reichenbach falls, as I most shamefully wrote that both of them were lost forever in the rapids at the foot. Indeed, neither was, and here I commit the truth of the matter - I found the pulverized forms of both the Professor Moriarty and my greatest friend, Sherlock Holmes, dashed to lifelessness on the rocks at the foot of the falls.
(SPN/Due south X-over, as yet untitled.)
The first time Dean and Cas had to have 'the talk', it was because Cas had just popped right into existence within the five most convenient feet of of him. Castiel didn't seem more than the smallest bit surprised at the spray from the shower - but Dean's startled - and he might admit girlish yelp, because come on no one expects angels in their shower not even when they signed up for the whole God vs. the apocalypse thing, Deans yelp confused Castiel. He just stood there, alternately being wet and not wet, as if just as soon as his clothes sticking to him became a great big, messy bother, he willed them dry again.
He asked his question with his expression rather than aloud, head canted, without bothering to do the smart thing if he wanted to stay dry, which was to get out of the shower. Dean gulps air, waiting for his heartbeat to slow to within the speed limit.
"Cas." He says, firmly, glad he hadn't slipped and broken his neck when he'd jumped.
Castiel seems to learn some lessons of humanity more soundly than others, because he at least has the sense to look scolded by the tone - though he's obviously not certain why he should be. Admonished Castiel is subtle, even though he doesn't move, his presence seems to shift away a little. His attention drifts downward instead of sidelong. Dean almost feels bad about it, before he remembers that he's naked, in the shower, and Castiel is not even just in the room with him, but standing cozily on this side of the curtain. Not even Cas' angelic powers of social awkwardness made that okay.
"Okay." Dean says, trying not to be upset. "Okay, outside the shower curtain, Cas. Not in it, outside."
Governesses Named Mary, Sherlock Holmes/Mary Poppins x-over.
"Watson has some past experience with Governesses named Mary, and therefore his help in this matter will be quite invaluable." Holmes looked amusedly in my direction, as if begging my patience in the matter.
"Really, Holmes." I had begun to protest the gentle barb at my marriage, but he continued, his voice raising to conquer mine as our excitable clients looked back and forth between us, trying to track a conversation that was tricky with the ease of old friendship.