is the key
f r e e
… and so sherlock and john never met. the end.
THE SHOW WOULD CONSIST OF JOHN LIMPING AROUND LONDON AT VARIOUS SPEEDS
“Who’d want me for a flatmate?” John asked, completely serious at the notion that anyone would actually want to room with him. He glanced at his old colleague when he heard him chuckling. “What?”
“Nothing, I just remembered a funny joke.” He said with a smile. It probably had something to do with two flatmates or something. John didn’t inquire.
“Oh.” He responded simply, returning his gaze to his cup of coffee. After a few minutes of silence, John looked up to ask Stamford a question but stopped when he saw a curious look on the man’s face. He almost seemed horrified. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Stamford stuttered. “It’s just…” He seemed to be trying to get a look at John’s back. “I just thought I saw something on your back.”
A couple days later, John saw something in the papers. It shouldn’t have bothered him, really, he didn’t even know this “Sherlock Holmes” character. He just couldn’t put his finger on why it made him so sad to find out that the so-called “consulting detective” had been victim to another one of those recent suicides.
NO NO NO
John pauses by a police box on his way to the store to get some milk. He smiled a little at the old timey appearance of it. “They just don’t make them like that anymore,” he said, a little wistfully. He jumped when the door flew open.
"You!" the man with the bow-tie snapped. John looked around in surprise but he was the only one around.
"M-me?" he asked, half pointing at himself.
"Yes, you. Don’t you know you jumped the tracks? You were supposed to be there to save that brilliant ridiculous idiot! But no, someone dipped their fingers in the time stream and messed everything all up. I will need to have a word with this person, but for now we need to get you back on track come on," the madman said, grabbing John by the arm and pulling him towards the box.
"Wow wow excuse me I don’t even know you!"
"Nor are you supposed to! But I can’t just let things go all willy-nilly topsie turvey here! Some one has got to save Sherlock Holmes and It might as well be us, eh?"
"I don’t know any Sherlock Holmes," John protested.
"Yes, and that might be the biggest crime here," the man said and finally succeeded in dragging John into the box.
"He killed himself, the papers said, and…oh my," John trailed off, looking around him in surprise. "It….it…."
"Yes, it is bigger on the inside I know. Come on, we’ve got a flatmate for you to meet!"
(in which Moriarty somehow got a hold of time travel tech and fucked everything up and the doctor is just the man to fix it)
this really needs to be a full blown, 85k word fic.
A real-life, single-barreled, Mami’s flintlock musket that shoots .45 caliber lead pellet rounds using gunpowder. Crafted by a master gunsmith.
103cm in length
Effective firing range is approx 255m
Concept design can be found here
i literally started gasping in like amazement when i saw this
Ok that’s actually really fucking cool