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28 June 2012 @ 02:35 pm
Memeage  
Stolen from guardian_chaos

Tell me about a story I haven't written, and I'll give you 1-3 sentences of or about it.
 
 
 
formerly lifeinsomniacjoonscribble on June 28th, 2012 06:46 pm (UTC)
The one where Cal Lightman goes to his daughter's school for Career Day.
The Writer They Call Tayawanderingbard on June 28th, 2012 09:23 pm (UTC)
I actually thought of a similar fic during my LTM days, but I never wrote it. Anyway:

Cal glanced over the tiny faces looking up at him, all the expressions popping out at him: hungry, bored, curious, happy, confused, nervous. Emily practically had a red neon flashing sign reading "EMBARASSED" above her head. "So," Cal began, "who here can tell me what a lie is?"
aelfgyfu_mead: Sherlock and Johnaelfgyfu_mead on June 28th, 2012 09:07 pm (UTC)
The one in which Sherlock imbibes and causes a coup abroad.
The Writer They Call Tay: SHERLOCK: Sherlock shockawanderingbard on June 28th, 2012 09:28 pm (UTC)
LOL!

There were times when you could go too deep into character and Sherlock Holmes might have reached that point. He wasn't aware of this though, because he was so drunk that he couldn't quite remember what he was really supposed to be doing. He was fairly sure it wasn't riling up a bunch of rebels until they put him on their shoulders and stormed the president's estate, though.
aelfgyfu_mead: John Watsonaelfgyfu_mead on June 29th, 2012 03:06 am (UTC)
Ha! That is excellent!

[subliminal]: write it, write it, write the whole fic, write it, write it. . . [/subliminal]
The Writer They Call Tay: SHERLOCK: Sherlock shockawanderingbard on June 29th, 2012 12:29 pm (UTC)
I don't know why, but I suddenly felt the urge to write it...write it...write it... :P

Shortish, because I don't know enough about African politics to make it too detailed. Also, I'm not sure whether have a grasp of Sherlock's interior monologue yet. But here you go:


The Holmes Revolution

There were times when you could go too deep into character and Sherlock Holmes might have reached that point. He wasn't aware of this though, because he was so drunk that he couldn't quite remember what he was really supposed to be doing. He was fairly sure it wasn't riling up a bunch of rebels until they put him on their shoulders and stormed the president's estate, though.

Nevertheless, he was currently somewhat draped over the disposed dictator's personal throne while the aforementioned rebels celebrated around him. Sherlock watched with a dispassionate eye, finding their antics annoying. Earlier that evening, he had successfully translated Churchill's 'we shall fight them on the beaches' speech (something he didn't even know he had stored in his hard drive) into the local language, but now couldn't seem to find the right words for 'take these naked women away', 'no, I don't want your goat' or 'shut the hell up'. No matter, someone had brought him a full bottle of the illegal alcohol he'd been consuming all evening. The rest was just details.




Sherlock woke up with a small, off-key orchestra tuning in his brain. He opened one eye and found the sun streaming through an aeroplane window. He moaned and closed his eye again.

“Oh, you're awake,” his brother's voice said. Just what Sherlock never wanted to hear when he was hungover. “How lovely. I'm so glad you didn't die of alcohol poisoning.”

Sherlock had several good comebacks for that, but couldn't seem to make his mouth move to use them. He tried opened his eyes again, reaching out and closing the blind on the window. Then he moved his gaze to Mycroft, who sat primly in the seat opposite. He glared and felt satisfied that his point had been made.

“A coup, Sherlock, really?” Mycroft went on, with a sigh. “When normal people get intoxicated, they have unprotected sex with strangers. They drive cars when they shouldn't. They take embarrassing photos of themselves and post them on the internet. But you, you overthrow governments.”

Sherlock now attempted to sit up in his seat, moving slowly so that he didn't jar the orchestra too much. “They were ripe for a revolution,” he said, managing to find his tongue. “It would have happened anyway. Don't tell me you weren't expecting it.”

“Yes, but it wasn't supposed to happen until next month,” Mycroft said. “We've had to move everything up. It's very inconvenient.”

“I'm so sorry to interfere with your plans for world domination,” Sherlock said, slumping down in his seat again. He spied a pair of sunglasses on the conference table nearby. He reached out, but his arms were slightly too short to get hold of them.

“What I don't understand,” Mycroft said, getting up and retrieving the glasses for him. Sherlock scowled at the help and refused to put them on. “Is how you managed to overthrow an entire regime without a single person being killed. The worst injury was to a 90 year old man, who broke a hip dancing.”

“I think I might have advised a peaceful revolution,” Sherlock said.

“I suppose that's something.”

Sherlock curled up in his seat, pulling his coat over him like a blanket and getting ready to go back to sleep. Then Mycroft said those dreaded words:

“Mummy is very disappointed in you.”

Sherlock felt a modicum of guilt at this, but it quickly went away. “You shouldn't have told her.”

“It was on the news, Sherlock,” Mycroft said. “I managed to keep your name out of it, but Mummy knows you well enough to recognize your handiwork.”

Sherlock frowned and then shook his head dismissively. This was a bad idea. The orchestra didn't like to be shaken. “Did I solve the case?” he asked.

Mycroft shifted uncomfortably. “Yes,” he said.

Sherlock smiled and put on the sunglasses. “Well then, brother, I don't know why you're so upset.”

Edited at 2012-06-29 12:58 pm (UTC)
aelfgyfu_mead: Sherlockaelfgyfu_mead on June 30th, 2012 05:37 pm (UTC)
You wrote it! I must remember you in my will! *hugs*

I'm glad no one was seriously hurt. I can totally imagine Mycroft's face during this. And Sherlock's.

Thank you!
Astoundingly fond of avocados and rainy weather.: Sherlock_Heart+Mindguardian_chaos on June 29th, 2012 05:49 am (UTC)
The one where Lestrade and Sherlock get stranded on the side of some far-off, country road because Sherlock forgot to put gas in the car.
The Writer They Call Tay: Sherlock: Lestrade shadesawanderingbard on June 29th, 2012 02:28 pm (UTC)
Hehe!

"I don't understand how you can be such a genius and such an idiot simultaneously," Lestrade grumbled.

Sherlock was bent sideways trying to get a signal on his mobile; Lestrade was somewhat impressed with his contortion abilities. "It's really your fault," Sherlock replied, "you've known me for five years, you should have predicted that I wouldn't remember something as mundane as the petrol."


Edited at 2012-06-29 02:28 pm (UTC)
Astoundingly fond of avocados and rainy weather.: SPN_IDon'tUnderstandThatReferenceguardian_chaos on June 30th, 2012 01:53 am (UTC)
Haha! Oh, this is perfect! Well done, you. :D

I think that bit about Sherlock doing a bizarre thing and Lestrade being silently impressed by the bizarre thing is one of the building blocks of their relationship. They wouldn't work together half as well without that.
The Writer They Call Tay: Sherlock: Lestrade shadesawanderingbard on August 15th, 2012 02:09 pm (UTC)
Hey there! I wrote your prompt out in a full story. It's here. Thanks for the inspiration!
Astoundingly fond of avocados and rainy weather.: Sherlock_Heart+Mindguardian_chaos on August 15th, 2012 10:02 pm (UTC)
Oh my goodness, yay!! Even the summary sounds superb, so I'm already really excited. I'm having an off day, so this is just what I need.

Thank you so much! You're a sweetheart. :D
rodlox: handsrodlox on July 2nd, 2012 12:56 am (UTC)
Seeing Red, where Kaylee is in charge of Serenity. loved it.