Holmes is framed in the open window, watching the carriage. Watson comes up behind him.
HOLMES: “Quiet. I’m trying to read a personal message.”
WATSON: “A message?”
The carriage is moving away from the hotel. Ilse/Gabrielle has her parasol over her shoulder, and it opens and closes, opens and closes.
She continues to signal with the parasol, unnoticed by Mycroft [who is with her in the carriage].
Watson is straining forward to see out the window.
WATSON: “What is she saying?”
HOLMES (slowly): “Auf Wiedersehn.”
HOLMES (holding up envelope): “H'mmm. A letter from the Diogenes Club.”
He has slit open the envelope. Watson watches him curiously as he reads the letter, but Holmes’ face remains expressionless. Slowly he puts down the letter, rises, crosses to the window, stands there staring out into the wintry street.
Dear Sherlock, my sources in Tokyo inform me that Ilse/Gabrielle von Hoffmanstal was arrested last week by the Japanese counter-intelligence service for spying on naval installations in Yokohama harbour. After a secret trial, she was summarily executed by a firing squad. It might interest you to know that
she had been living in Japan these past few months under the name of Mrs. Ashdown [name she used when she pretended to be married to Holmes while investigating]. Sincerely, Mycroft.”
WATSON: “Holmes – I’m terribly sorry about this.”
HOLMES (quietly, without turning): “Where is it, Watson?”
WATSON (after a beat): “In the files. May to July, 1885.”
Holmes turns to the bookshelves above the desk. From a row of similar volumes, he slides out the three files marked MAY, JUNE, and JULY 1885. Actually, it’s the medical bag, standing on end, with the spines of three volumes pasted on the bottom.
He sets the bag down on the desk, opens it, takes out a bottle of cocaine. Watson watches him with compassion as he crosses to his bedroom with his cocaine, goes in, shuts the door.
From Holmes’ bedroom comes the sound of a melancholy tune being played on the violin. […]
The violin music continues, infinitely romantic, infinitely sad.
(All quotes are from the original “The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes” script)
I’m really, really glad Mofftiss decided against such an ending in “A Scandal in Belgravia”.
“A humble man is not one who shows this outwardly, but one who
sincerely believes that he is the worst of sinners, who continually
repents before God secretly, who performs his good works secretly, who
never judges others for their moral weaknesses, and who bears all of
life’s trials with equanimity. He never murmurs, saying, ‘O God, how
have I sinned that Thou hast punished me so severely?’ but is always
grateful for everything.”
~Archimandrite Seraphim Aleksiev of Bulgaria
(Art: Fr. Joachim of Mount Athos, via Lessons From A Monastery)
So I’m reading the Council of Nikaea and I have the following statements to make....apologies for the foul language.
1. Fuck you Mortarion. Fuck you and your smelly, lame Astartes who couldn’t beat cavemen that wielded magic. Sore ass loser. And where is your bony hinder now? Serving a Chaos God with acid breath. Your former father was a Psyker…and guess what? Your current gene father is a Psyker too. Wow. Did you see the irony of that? Because I can, and I’m nowhere near Primarch level. Now you’re serving a WARP DEMON. AHAHAHAHAHA.
2. Same to you Ohthmere Wyrdmake. You hypocritical traitorous fleabag. Forged by Fenris my foot. You are a PSYKER. PSYKER. PSYKER.PSYKER.PSYKER.PSYKER. Hear that? PSSSSSSSSSSYKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRR. While I’m glad Ahriman fed you to the devourers in the Warp I would’ve loved to have seen the look on your face when the Horus Heresy unraveled. Bring out the marshmallows because someone is going to get buuuuurrrned!
3. YOU ALL MOTHERFUCKERS MADE SANGUINIUS CRY!!!! There is absolutely no forgiveness for making that sweet, bloodthirsty, blackraged angelic man CRY. Nope. No forgiveness. Whatsoever. Done. (Incidentally, they did say here he had black hair and his wings were black and white. Interesting.)
4. Magnus was sooooo excited, so hyped up for Nikaea that he even dressed in his Sunday’s best to attend and what did y'all do? THROW IT ALL IN HIS FACE LIKE A CRIMINAL. Did you even give the man advance notice? HEY, SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKER YOU’RE ON TRIAL FOR YOUR ASS. All hush, hush, secret. AMBUSH TRIAL. How classy. You couldn’t, oh, I know, maybe telepathically talk to him maybe, give him a heads up? You think he’s not gonna show up or something because he will defy you? Magnus loved his father, he would’ve obeyed like the son he was. For someone whose been talking to him since he was an embryo, his Dad sure knows shit about him.
5. And while we’re at it. what is he on trial for anyway? FOR SOMETHING YOU MADE HIM INTO. Here son, have these super duper special powers. And while we’re at it, let’s make an entire Goddamn legion…nope not a dozen, not a hundred, but an ENTIRE legion of warp-wielding super soldiers from your genes. Hey I’m giving you dangerous stuff here, but I won’t tell you its dangerous, or what could come out of it. It’s like giving a kid a Christmas present, then taking it back, making him put in back a box because he might shoot his eye out with it (hahahaha you can insert all the puns you want in here). THEN WHY GIVE HIM THE PRESENT IN THE FIRST PLACE???? Criminy cripes. Maybe you should’ve given him Space Legos.
6. And after all this BS, Magnus still had the desire to HELP prevent the Motherfucking Horus Heresy. He tried to save Horus. When that didn’t work, he tried to warn his father. AFTER his humiliation, AFTER his CENSURE. AFTER they told his Legion to shut up and fuck off. AFTER they have been labelled sorcerers, warlocks, wielders of black magic. HE STILL TRIED TO DO THE RIGHT THING. He messed up. He made bad decisions. Sure. But you know what, HE COULD HAVE JUST WALKED AWAY AFTER NIKAEA and told everyone, FINE, I’M LETTING YOU ALL BURN IN HELL. I’M GOING TO SIT HERE AND DO NOTHING WHILE HORUS FUCKS UP THE GALAXY.
7. Of course, the clincher, the burning of Prospero. I haven’t gotten to that part yet but I’m likely to go off like this again.
I’m sorry if I offended anyone. I just had too many feelings after reading this part..Almost like the feelings I had reading about the assfuckery they did to Angron.
Review - The Trials of Apollo Book 1: The Hidden Oracle by Rick Riordan
I asked for a bi main character.
And oh boy, I got a hella bi main character.
For those who don’t follow children’s literature, Rick Riordan has made his name on several series of books about the children of mythological gods - Greek, Roman, Egyptian, and Norse. They all take place in a shared universe, and while the events of this new series (The Trials of Apollo) follow his last series (The Heroes of Olympus), you can probably get by without reading the previous installments to get this one. There was a war, the good guys won, and the kids of humans and gods (ie demigods) live at a summer camp on Long Island. There are monsters and objects from Greek mythology all over the place. It’s certainly more enjoyable for long time fans however with mentions to past characters and situations easter egged all over.
Oh yeah, and one of those gods, Apollo, has been cursed by Zeus for reasons unknown into the body of a pimply, awkward, uncoordinated, mortal teenage boy named Lester. Apollo is normally a god of enormous ego so this is not really high on his to-do list and he wants this brush with mortality over ASAP so he can get his godly powers back. The result is funny and fast-paced, much like Riordan’s other books.
Meanwhile Riordan weaves Apollo’s bisexuality into both his personality as a god-turned-mortal and into his choices and actions. Apollo establishes early on that he is completely supportive of his son Will dating a boy Nico, and their super-cute relationship is another lovely touch of queerness in this book. One of his children Kayla came from his relationship with a man because as he puts it “Why should such things surprise you? We gods are capable of infinite marvels”. To my knowledge this is the first time that a demigod in any of his series has had same-sex parents. And every demigod basically has some form of dyslexia so they are great disability representation.
Apollo also talks a lot about the two biggest exes in his immortal life - one male and one female. From sobbing into a pot of hyacinths while thinking of his long-dead boyfriend to singing out his regrets over his own actions from when his ex Daphne turned herself into a tree because she no longer loved him, it’s a wonderful blend of the mythological and the real. He is experiencing grief in an entirely different way as a mortal, but Riordan gives both Apollo’s identity and his past relationships the weight and respect they deserve. The only downside is that the word bisexual is never used in the text (sigh). However its only the first book in the series, and given the overall bi-friendliness, I’m hopefully for the future. I believe this series will have 5 books when it is all said and done.
The Secret Oracle is big, possibily the biggest thing to EVER happen in bisexual children s or YA lit. This book gets a bisexual main character into the hands of MILLIONS of children world-wide who read his books. More kids will read bi Apollo in this series than probably all the other YA books we’ve ever reviewed COMBINED. And to have it handled so well (and so much) from the first book gives me a lot of hope. Mark my words, in a few years tumblr will be full of teens/20 somethings saying that they realized they were bi because of The Trials of Apollo.
Riordan has chosen to start every chapter off with a haiku, including one that goes “Practice makes perfect / ha, ha, ha don’t think so / Ignore my sobbing”. Neither mortality or the teen years are easy, and that is something I think we all can relate to.
You sign your signature at the bottom of the page as Dean returns with a cup of coffee and places it at the edge of your testimony.
Truth be told, you were sick to your stomach, and didn’t want to put anything, let alone coffee, in it. You just wanted some space as you essentially signed your life away.
“All done,” you push the paper towards him, wrapping your hands around the steaming mug, happy for the little bit of warmth it sent through your cold fingers.
Dean picks up the paper and leans back in his chair, his green eyes scanning over your handwriting as a silence falls over you.
Rather than watch him read, you decide to look around the office, noticing bulletin boards with MISSING and WANTED posters, the solemn faces of men, woman and children staring blankly at you, desks that are all empty, and immaculately clean, and a glass office at the very back of the room, the blinds drawn shut and the only indication of what that room is for is the plate on the door that reads: Executive Assistant Director for Criminal, Cyber, Response and Services Branch, and under it, another plate, that is probably changed out for every new Executive Assistant Director, that says Robert S. Singer.
You were curious about the men and woman who filled theses desks during the weekdays; who they were, what kind of lives they lived, what inspired them to devote their lives to the FBI. It takes a certain type of person to devote yourself, not to just fighting crime, but going through all the training to become a federal agent. There had to be some sort of driving force behind it.
You look over at Dean, your testimony blocking his face, and wonder how he ended up Agent Winchester.
The crinkle of paper breaks your thoughts as Dean puts the testimony down on his desk.
“Looks good,” he says quietly, nodding his head. You don’t know how to respond, so you just force a tight smile.
“So what now?”
Dean’s eyes study your face, and unsure of his scrutiny, you duck your gaze to the plastic-looking, wooden desktop.
“Look, I’m not going to lie,” you look back to him, his forearms now resting on his desk as he leans forward in his chair–this time, he’s looking down at his keyboard.
“It’s going to be a long process, especially since they already know who you are.” Dean looks up, his gaze meeting yours for a moment, and you notice the contrast of greens in his eyes, how with each blink, his lashes direct your gaze to the freckles that decorate his cheeks, starting across his nose and disappearing underneath his five o’clock shadow.
“Usually, a witness’s identity is kept secret until the trial, so we keep an agent stationed at their house and work if we believe there’s a threat. But obviously, we’re way past that point with you.”
Facecam? Check. Professional racing wheel setup? Check. 800 horsepower virtual machine? Check. Student drivers? Quadruple check. In today’s video, Jake takes the rest of Secret Room into a trial by fire on his THRUSTMASTER racing wheel. It rains a lot. To no one’s surprise, it goes VERY poorly.
On Trial by LeprechaunFairy - no rating, WIP -
It’s been several years since Harry Potter defeated Voldemort but there is someone still attacking Muggleborns. When Draco Malfoy is charged with the crime it is up to Hermione to save him from a lifetime in Azkaban even though it means she has to reveal a long kept secret.
Somehow I missed that Harvey tells Mike about the can opener ritual in high noon. We don’t see the detail it cuts away but the implication is that harvey tells Mike the details.
So the only people that know about the highly secret pre trial ritual are Harvey, Donna and Mike. Harvey also tells Mike about his Dad in the same episode.
Weirdly, it’s the can opener that strikes me as significant. The story about his dad is conciliatory almost, mike is talking about having bought his Grammy the flat and harvey is trying to console him. But the can opener story, harvey volunteers it. This secret ritual with Donna that’s meant to signify how close they are etc and is meant to be a big secret that no one else knows and harvey just tells Mike. (I can’t remember if anyone else finds out but IIRC it’s always deflected when someone asks). So Donna has never told anyone else and Harvey…well Harvey tells Mike because he eventually tells mike everything and god this show.
Okay but future fic with a Scira pregnancy. And Kira and Scott find out that while pregnant human women get cravings and morning sickness, a pregnant thunder kitsune gets all that plus random power surges. Kira accidentally short circuits the toaster one morning, there’s scorch marks on the furniture from where she got a little too frustrated about being on bedrest, and by mutual agreement, it’s decided Scott probably shouldn’t shower with her for the duration of the pregnancy.
And then midway through the second trimester, the question of ‘will the baby be a werewolf or a kitsune, and if the latter, what kind’ is answered when all the plants in their apartment start growing to ridiculous sizes thanks to the baby forest kitsune’s magic. Noshiko can only help so much because she’s never heard of a kitsune’s nature manifesting as early as in the womb, but as she and Deaton speculate, they’ve never heard of a kitsune and a True Alpha procreating together before either. Meanwhile, Kira could give a shit why her baby is so goddamn precocious, she just wants her apartment to stop looking like the middle of the Amazon and Scott’s too busy beaming over said child’s precociousness to be any help there whatsoever, and oh god, she can only imagine the teenage years now.
John realising that Sherlock will stop at nothing to stop Moriarty and he can’t let that happen. He can’t lose Sherlock. He won’t! He killed for him once before. He’ll die for him as well.
So John goes to Mycroft, begs him for his help, ‘’because you know Sherlock, Mycroft. He’ll get sucked in and it’ll be too late before either one of us can stop him. Moriarty wants to destroy him and I won’t let him do that…’’
They plan in secret, John watches the trial, controls himself when Moriarty visits Sherlock in 221B. John clenches his jaws when Sherlock pulls away from him, lies to him. He swallows his bile when their world crashes around them and they are forced to run through the streets while the MET and the snipers chase them. He knows he won’t make it back to Baker Street.
John wants to tell him when they are running after Moriarty, who has played them both but Sherlock is gone before he can stop him. He has to move now, he knows, before Sherlock comes back with his own plan in place. He wants to stop him, though. He wants to tell him he loves him, he wants to hold him, beg his forgiveness for what is about to happen. He doesn’t.
Sherlock trusts him. He takes the tea and drinks it. John watches Sherlock as he slumps down his seat. He gently lets him down on the floor, kisses his brow and lingers for a moment. He doesn’t know how long he’ll have to wait before he can even see Sherlock again, but he had to do this. Just once. He’ll have to hurry; Sherlock won’t stay down long.
John reads the message Moriarty sends Sherlock, deletes it after replying, and he sends Sherlock a new message. A new address. Behind the ambulance station.
He goes up onto the roof on his own, revels in the surprise he sees on Moriarty’s face and now their game begins. John doesn’t lie - he always was a terrible liar - but bend the truth just well enough and John gets away with it. He bends his anger, his fear, his grief into the shock he displays when Moriarty tells him about his own snipers and the anger when Moriarty taunts him. He needs to keep Sherlock safe. He’ll die for him and Moriarty knows this.
‘’With you out of the way… Sherlock will finally be free again… Free from that abhorrent sentimental dribble he feels for you. He’ll be mine.’’
John shoots him when Moriarty mentions bringing Sherlock up here for this. To make him watch. One bullet. Right between the eyes. That’s all it takes.
It’s not over. There is Moriarty’s network, his snipers that need questioning. There is still Sherlock’s safety to consider. So John moves closer to the edge, sees the safety precautions underneath him and he sees Sherlock’s shape running - stumbling - over the pavement on the other side of the ambulance station. This is it. The final deception.
Please, Sherlock. Don’t blame yourself. I couldn’t let you do it. - JW
John will hear Sherlock crying out as he falls every single night he is away.