picowrimo | Day 4 (Team July)

Hoping not to overdo that aspect.

Oh wow, you have handled that exception well :) I'm wondering if John's fingers are near Sherlock's neck where there are oodles of big arteries and the like, then Sherlock's reviving pulse (because his heart will have stopped when he was frozen, I presume) would be detectable around the same time as his attempt to speak.

Roma was kind of a tragic figure. She had been a flapper around the time of the nineteen-twenties and before that had been in the Women's Flying Ambulance Unit (can't remember the precise name but somehting similar) and had worked as a journalist. She makes a very brief appearance earlier in the novel, but suffers a great loss and for the rest of her life lives a lie moored up in her house that has not changed since the Twenties...

The catalyst for this whole series was The Hounds of Baskerville generally and in particular the experiment scene in the lab where Sherlock suceeds in deeply frightening John and for which John forgives him. That dynamic seems to still be running through the story and whether John would be better off running from the whole relationship continues to be a question.

Since John was back to rubbing circles around the chest again just before that word, he could certainly be brushing past the neck at that point. Thank you for pointing that out. It's terrible to get the science completely wrong!

I understand the urge.

I love all sorts of scenes, but the whole final scene of A Study in Pink, especially the bit where Sherlock is deducing to Lestrade and realises that it's John and stops talking and tells Lestrade to ignore everything he said, is one of my favourite favourites.

And then, of course, there's the part where Sherlock comes along on John and Sarah's first date in TBB. :-D

Tomorrow is the end of this scene. Really and truly.

~400 words on the Firiel story. I suppose it is progress, but I'm struggling to fill in gaps and try and work out whether it is one story or several...

Firiel on the morning that she is to leave Minas Anor
"You came up here for one last look at the city before you leave?" Pelendur asked, leaning on the wall beside her.
Firiel glanced round at him.
"Yes. I know I must leave, but it is so hard to actually do so," she said softly, wiping away the tears on her face.
"I do understand, but you should try to be happy - after all you are still going to be among our kin, perhaps in time you can come to see Fornost as home."
"Not to throw away any chance at happiness due to the current pain?"
"Exactly," he said, slightly sharply. "I am sorry that there is nothing I can do."
She looked out at the sun, just coming over the horizon, highlighting the city in so many bright colours.
"I will try. After all this is my duty, and I know how important the alliance is with the Wainriders pressing in on our borders. I will do my duty."
“I would never expect anything else of you, my lady.”
She smiles wryly.
“You used to call me by my name, Pelendur.”
“That would hardly be an appropriate way to address the future Queen of Arthedain. However, I will always remain your friend, if you allow it. Now, you should go in, your family will be expecting you.”

With professional interest, probably!

Thanks!

Not any time soon. We still have our boarder and the person who's annoying me was brought up with servants and doesn't know how to respect other people.

Both! And thanks! :-)

I've been reading yours (great convos) but I'm just no good at commenting lately,

Thanks. We still have our boarder which is a bit stressful as I can't just go home and veg out, and the person who's annoying me grew up with servants and doesn't know how to respect other people. :-(

Avon will pretty much work it out.

Not for a few months, I suspect. But if I get the urge as I did yesterday, I'll grab it!

She grew up with servants and a lot of entitlement. I'm going to lose the plot one day soon.

The clothes and ID were required to get through security, but yes, he was definitely discarded as surplus to needs.

Very intense and also very John.

That's OK! You've done such a good job and I should have thought of stepping in but my brain wasn't firing on all cylinders.

Is Roma a major character? She doesn't sound the suicidal sort.

Kenyon deserves a soggy pie.

Whatever it was, Napoleon knows it's a sensitive subject.

Oh man, the poor guy's still naked!

Maybe you can use the idea in another story?

Yes, it is progress. It's an interesting question about whether it will be one story or a series of related stories or a collection of independent stories.

I'm trying to be hopeful for Firiel, but it isn't easy.

That made me smile. It's been hard trying to catch that combination of assertiveness and acquiescence, temper and calm.

I'm trying to multitask, and it's really not my strong point. I am: re-reading canon, to find out how the drawbridge works and useful things like that ('moves on rollers', apparently); re-reading my own story and plotting events onto a timeline to make sure everybody is alive/dead/out of the country/pregnant/in love when they should be; still writing bits to fill in gaps. The trouble is that tasks one and two tend to spawn more plot-holes, so task three expands exponentially...

Here, for example, we have just buried the late Duke of Elbe, and we are going to ridiculous lengths to ensure that, should his Duchess produce an heir, it will be indisputably his heir. If you see what I mean....

--------

The meeting, then, was a risible sight. A barricade of chairs, sideboards and screens bisected the ballroom. On the one side, the Duchess sat with her ladies gathered around her; on the other, Uncle Sapt, the Duke and my brothers stood around in attitudes suggestive of profound discomfort. A gap had been left in the middle, through which I was handed with great ceremony to join the Duchess and her ladies – before three of those last-named, evidently deemed the hardiest, closed it with a Louis XIV sofa.

Heirs and Graces

Phase 3 -- July's writing:

Knuckled down this evening, and finished the fight scene, although I may expand it a little in editing. Now the aftermath:

"Lord Edward, what have you been doing this time?" Ada Bellows said, setting the kettle on the hob.

"That's a story for another day. I've no time for tea either," Edward said. He dried his hands on a tea towel, and pulled a comb from his pocket. First off he was going to remove nine-tenths of the Brylcreme from his hair. Then he was going to change his clothes, and get Ada to dispose of this set. He'd got her son out of a nasty jam a couple of years before, and she was a reliable sort when it came to repaying favours.

"As soon as I've gone," he continued, "I need you to go out to the phone-box, and call the police. Don't give your name, just say you heard a nasty commotion at the bottom of the steps, and you want someone to see what's been going on."

"Should I know what the commotion was about?"

"Best you don't." He'd left the Norton up at the Ace Café after a heavy drinking session the week before. If he took a taxi up there now, he could be well away from London before the police did more than seal off the area around where Jones lay. He'd head north, maybe spend a night in one of his old haunts before going back to Italy in a day or so.

He had a lot to think about.

Hurrah for craft progress!

Congratulations on making progress in spite of everything.

Day 4 (Team July)

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