ROUND 8 IS CLOSED.
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norsekink!
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Attention:
M ind the new rules that have gone up over the course of the last round. NOTE: We've noticed that some of the prompts being posted have Thor characters only making cameos or not featured at all. We realize that Thor is closely involved in the Avengers, but we're requesting that
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Mycroft looked for Mummy for years, so long that Sherlock thinks Mycroft has forgotten how to do anything else for running the Government is a way of looking for Mummy; always Sir Mycroft Holmes knows where she isn't.
Sherlock looked for Mummy in his own way, by mystery and reasoning and observing. It's as good as magic, Mummy had told him with a sly smile as she taught him. Sherlock does not question that there is magic, he has seen it, observed it, real and true magic. Mummy's magic, and Sherlock knows by that bond of mother-son that he would know if she were hurt, or...gone forever.
He helps others find out things if they ask, it wasn't always the answer they had been looking for. Sherlock thinks they should be grateful for any answer at all, they have a answer - he and Mycroft and Father do not. He refuses to think that they never will, he will not give up.
Yet now that he's grown up, Sherlock Holmes demands that the questions asked of him interest him, either professionally or personally; or at the very least, that he is paid for the work he does. That Mycroft insists upon - that, Sherlock can agree with, for Mummy would approve too.
Sherlock prefers not to be reminded of his roots, he avoids manor houses and nobles of most nations. They would know about Mummy. He takes a flat in busy bustling London, with it's people and it's problems - some days, he can forget Mummy, and some days when it is too hot, or chilled and foggy and paints the windows with frost (as his Mummy's windows always were, no matter the season), he remembers and it wrecks him for weeks.
The day he meets John Watson, he is beating a dead body (in a morgue, perfectly legal, he's got the papers)- it isn't, in fact the worst impression he's ever made. It is the most memorable. John Watson has seen worse, he's been in the wars, he is a doctor. He has night terrors, he misses the war.
He's looking for a roommate with a flat. Sherlock takes him up on it - and Mycroft smugly approves, in his own way, offering payment for "keeping up with" Sherlock and the sharing of information. John may not grasp Mycroft's meaning, but Sherlock would be blind not to. Sherlock is many things - but not blind.
It's how he spots Moriarty, like a great big spider sitting on a web that spans the world. And Sherlock can not help but think, that, at long last - this is the clue he's been looking for, a clue Mummy left for him to follow.
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:)
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Oh god, this is such an amazing start, thank you so much for this fill!
*sets up camp and starts f5ing* I can't wait for the next part!
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(When I saw Loki-is-Mummy, I thought "The Mummy?"; but no, this is sweet-and-bitter and I just couldn't help but see what happens.)
:D
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Sherlock, of course, does not share the clue with Mycroft (who might already know, might not, who has never shared with Sherlock all he does not or does know). Yet he can not keep John Watson in the dark. Not utterly, it smacks of betrayal of their trust; the loyalty John keeps to him is that of a solider. He calls him friend, and Sherlock has never really had one before - but he would like to keep John.
So when Dr. John Watson asks "Why can't you let him go, Sherlock?" after they nearly get blown up and or shot (or both; yet neither happened) by Moriarty; Sherlock thinks carefully of his answer, or if he should answer at all.
"It isn't that he's my equal, John. It isn't that he and I share a genius for crime, no, it's deeper." Sherlock knows that Moriarty is not nearly so smart as Mycroft, not nearly so clever as Sherlock. Means nothing in comparison to finding Mummy.
John is one for words, and Sherlock is not. He sinks down onto the floor, crossing legs and folding his arms under his chin, closing his eyes so he can think of the right words. Words that will let John understand him, understand this, and why.
“I have been looking for something that is lost, for a very long time. Like a puzzle, or a lock. And he…may have the key.” Sherlock thinks those are the right words, the words closest to his heart. John frowns down at him, he hasn’t said get off the floor, or what you are doing (as if it isn’t as obvious as what it looks like) he is taking this as seriously as Sherlock.
“Is that why you do what you do, your looking for something too?” Sherlock looks to the skull, thinking of wicked green eyes, sly smiles, and fair skin - dark hair, thick and lush like his own. He is forgetting his Mummy’s face. Father burnt all her pictures years ago; the family painted portrait had not been spared. Not even Mycroft can find her face. Sherlock likes to think that if he saw her, he would know his Mummy no matter the years.
“We all are looking for something, John.” Sherlock unfolds from sitting, he stands and goes to his room, determined to draw what he recalls most vividly of Mummy’s features, before he forgets. He can not, must not ever forget.
It would be the worst crime in the world, and he would never forgive it.
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Huh, wonder why Lord Holmes did such a thorough job of erasing his dear departed spouse from all records. *shivers with anticipation*
Oh god, I want John to find out that it's Mummy the boys are looking for. That Mycroft became the bleeding government and Sherlock tears his body and mind apart, first with drugs, then nicotine, in a desperate bid to get ever better at cracking mysteries... to "solve" the disappearance of their mother.
And with his probably broken homelife, I really wonder how he'll take that.
And oh god, Sherlock drawing his mother. *wibbles* I just. Give me a moment.
PS: God, I want John or Irene to find the drawing...
OH MY GOD.
Maybe the reason Sherlock is so fascinated with Irene is she reminds him of Mummy. *flaily hands* His mind had Mummy as this beautiful and strong figure, that society says was female... AH AH AH! I can not!
f5f5f5f5f5
Mycroft says: man burning (With need for more of this fic!)
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Oh, hello there IDEAS.
Erm, I hope you don't mine what I did with Irene.
John will probably find Mummy's photo (around the time Mummy shows up in Germany/NY)...?
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:D
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Sherlock has no particular hang-ups with being nude, he has sat by a giggling John in the house of the Government in not but a sheet. Nor does he see a particular interest in the nudity of others, be they women or men. He simply does not see nudity as being "naughty" as Irene Adler would call it, she who greets him with a smile and nothing else.
There is something she has that isn't awakened in Sherlock, and he knows it, puzzles over it, even as he observes her. Sex, sexuality, sensuality, sin. He sees it all the time, he simply doesn't understand it as others seem to grasp.
Mycroft has told him he is too young, that Mummy's boys age quick in the mind and slow in other ways. Perhaps they never will be whole, and it isn't important, because Mummy was the same, not quite sane, and they are the same as she. They aren't alone, and will never be lonely (although there are days which Sherlock calls his brother his arch enemy and means it, plotting his downfall and that of his beloved Government as if it may well be life or death).
Still, there is a likeness between Mummy and Irene that Sherlock does not deny. Can not deny. Irene can, could, should disappear like Mummy, and it gulls Mycorft to no end. Mycroft wouldn't be able to tell if she were alive or dead if she did not want it found out, even with his Goverment games. Irene - like Mummy - is a law unto herself.
Mycroft would like her gone, would like her dead or simply dealt with so long as his Goverment runs as smoothly as a well oiled machine.
Sherlock wants to know if Irene Adler has ever heard of his Mummy.
"Well?" Irene prompts him in his silence, as he sits and stares. He can't read her smile. John Watson, a doctor, a soldier, willingly flees before her. Sherlock knows he is dealing with someone formidable.
"My brother would like the photos in your possession." Her laugh is short, sudden to start and sudden to stop. Sherlock thinks he has caught her off guard, that he perhaps surprised her.
"And you, what do you want?" Sherlock tilts his head, frowning.
"Information, but it is unlikely you have it, or know you have it." Sherlock shrugs, and her eyes narrow at his dismissal as if he'd slapped her.
"Mr. Holmes, I know secrets like you know the how and why of mysteries - like your bother knows his mind and memory. Like the Lady Lockaey knows lies and magic." Sherlock sees his expression in the mirror, wide eyed and stunned silent.
Irene stands, fluid grace. Sherlock may not know sexuality, but he knows intimacy, knows what is attractive and pleasing.
"Yes, I know all about Mummy." Irene leans into Sherlock's face, and whispers in his ear. Her eyes are very green, and old.
"Do you want to know a secret?" Sherlock sits very still, barely breathing, and nods letting Irene's lips touch the shell of his ear.
"Your Mummy is mine too." In the mirror Irene smiles, in familiarity, and Sherlock can not help but think how similar he looks to her, how alike. They think alike too - all three of them.
"Where is she." The woman, he will call her ever after, the woman who knows all his secrets, his sister.
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There can be no doubt, though, that Irene is working with Moriarty. Sherlock does not know why, only that it means he is on the right road. He gets her phone, because she sends it to him. He feels several steps behind her, and he knows this is her way of getting back at him, at doubting her to know what secrets she keeps.
She lures John away in to a warehouse like Mycroft, and Sherlock follows, because he is his friend, and she is his sister. He doesn't yet know what that means, but he is learning.
Yet again the CIA get in the way, and Sherlock does not feel the lest bit bad about sending a agent through the window.
The code is one of his brother's own, the MOD, the Goverment, and his brother should not be keeping secrets - least of all from Sherlock (and their sister, though Mycroft does not know that yet).
Mycroft, of course, knows the moment the code is cracked, perhaps he has been waiting for Sherlock to do just this. They are whisked away to Heathrow Airport where Mycroft awaits.
It unravels as Government secrets often do. If Irene means for Sherlock to be impressed with her efforts to gain the upper hand over his elder brother, he must admit he is. It's a good plot, and he doesn't think it done yet. So he lets her go her own way, refusing her false plea for protection. Mycroft will not watch her too closely. Sherlock will.
John tells him she is in America, under witness protection. It's a cover Mycroft would protect him with. His big brother thinks she lost her head to a executioner in Karachi. Irene, he knows, is looking for Mummy in all the places Sherlock would be lost in, and Mycroft wouldn't know.
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I'm very glad you approve!
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Will they find Mummy?
Oh and Sherlock's sometimes hate towards Mycroft and how it mirrors Loki's eternal aggravation toward Thor. I love this!
What would Thor think if he found and recognized any of them????
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(Will they find Mummy?)
Well, yes, but it might be that Mummy finds them. ;)
Hehe. Yes, yes it does. I'm glad you grabbed at that. It sort of becomes "key".
Oh, Thor...(evil giggles)
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