Brokenwood Fan Page

An unofficial blog dedicated to The Brokenwood Mysteries!

[brokenwoodfanpage]

Just a heads up that when I say 'unofficial' blog I do actually mean unofficial.

[bkwormkate]

Brokenwood Mysteries update

Fern Sutherland, our Detective Kristen Sims, has given us another filming update!

[bkwormkate]

The Brokenwood Mysteries

Nic Sampson (Detective Constable Sam Breen) made a farewell video that he shared on his social media. It included quite a few fun scenes filmed that just HAD to be gif’d. They all look so young and cute! 😍

[bkwormkate]

The Brokenwood Mysteries S01E01 “Blood and Water” 

The backstory with Mike and Tania is so compelling. Love this scene!

[pav-lova]

this is home

written for @brokenwoodfanpage‘s fic week. prompt was ‘home’.

also available on the ao3

contains spoilers for s06e03: dead men don’t shoot ducks

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Home. It’s more than a word, more than a location. 

Mike thinks about home, a little, when the shotgun’s being pointed at his face. It’s not his house that he thinks of, not really, but the people.

His sister, her son. 

How he’s not seen them in years. Far too long. How their faces only drift at the sides of his conscious - half a memory, if that. 

But not just them.

Keep reading

[pav-lova]

the power of steam

late one for @brokenwoodfanpage‘s fic week - prompt was ‘station’.

also available on the ao3

coda for s06e01 - no spoilers.

-

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Kristen hisses, under her breath, and fiddles with her jacket. “I look ridiculous.” She stands on the train platform, long prop rifle propped against one leg.

“You look awesome.” Sam replies. He won’t describe himself exactly as into this steampunk lark, but he does like the way it makes him feel. It’s almost badass. Almost. “Don’t you feel like you’re harking back to your theatrical roots?”

She shoots him a dirty look and hoists her rifle up. “I took one theatre class in uni. One.”

“And I’m sure you were top of the class, like you always are.”

“I mean- I was but- that’s not the point.” Kristen shoots him another dirty look. “You know, I was thinking about it for ages, and I’ve finally figured it out.”

“What?”

“You look almost exactly like Ernest Rutherford - if he had a monocle and looked a bit like a pirate.”

Wow, he’s almost chuffed at the comparison. Almost. He tips his hat to her, and drawls, “All science is either physics or stamp-collecting, milady.”

“Ugh, get out.” Kristen replies, but she’s laughing anyway, and that’s all that matters. “Is that a real Rutherford quote?”

“Yeah.”

Kristen shifts her weight a little, just for a second, looking almost rueful. “This is very odd for me, Sam.”

“I’m usually the one who wears all the costumes, you mean?”

“Yes, but-” She replies, but there’s a note of hesitance in her voice. “I know I was… just mocking you, but I almost… like this costume? Thomasin Flint’s really confident. I like how powerful she feels, how secure. Is that weird?”

He shrugs, and looks over at her. Yeah, she does look confident. Happy. There’s none of the Kahu-driven annoyance he’s seen in her eyes for the last few weeks. “Only if you make it weird? I get it, if that helps. Wilfr-”

But Cleo is striding towards them, looking irritated, all decked out in her steampunk gear, and he shushes herself.

“Are you two quite ready?” Cleo asks. She wears the steampunk gear far more comfortably than either of them ever will.

They both murmur general noises of affirmation.

“Good.” Cleo replies. “We’re about to call action. Do you remember what to do?”

“Of course… Steampunk Jones.” Sam replies, a smidge cheekily, because the whimsy of it all is very fun, even if everything else is a little bit weird.

“Good.” Cleo says. “Make sure to hit your marks, Wilfred Lucke, Thomasin Flint.”

She walks off, dress swishing wildly behind her.

Kristen snorts. “Wilfred Lucke? Could you sound more like a character made up by a bad author?”

Well, that’s just insulting. Breen opens his mouth, ready to reply, but in the far distance, Poppy yells, “Camera!”

There’s a general kerfuffle in the distance, and someone replies, “Rolling.”

“Sound?”

More kerfuffle. Breen briefly wonders if the crew knows what they’re doing, and then remembers he doesn’t really want to know.

“Speed.”

“And… action!” Poppy calls.

Within moments, Steampunk Jones is barreling towards them, her pistol drawn. “I’m here to end your crimes, Lucke and Flint! You will feel the wrath of Steampunk Jones!”

Kristen hoists her rifle up and yells, in a vague approximation of an English accent. “Not so fast, Steampunk Jones!” and she’s grinning broadly as she does, obviously genuinely having fun, looking more relaxed than she has in days.

Yeah, Breen still doesn’t quite get steampunk, but if something like this makes Kristen feel happy, then surely it can’t be all that bad.

[brokenwoodfanpage]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

For day 5: The Station

[detectivefrodo]

Brokenwood Fic Week: Day 3: The Carnival!

Prompt by the amazing @brokenwoodfanpage!

//

A sunny summer day in Brokenwood, and the carnival has come to town. The sun beat down on the carnival goers. Bright colors, laughter and funnel cake punctuate the sights, sounds, and smells of the occasion.

Gina had dragged Mike along with her to the carnival, determined to have some alone time with him that wasn’t concerning work. He had dug his heels in at first, but she managed to convince him. She had counted on everything, even going so far as to double check the different games that were going to be there.

What Gina did not count on, however, was the sheer amount of people that Mike knew and was willing to talk to.

Keep reading

[pav-lova]

HOSPITAL! DRAMA!!

written for @brokenwoodfanpage‘s fic week - prompt was ‘hospital’

this is absolute crack. also available on the ao3

–

9.30am at Brokenwood Regional Hospital. It’s not the biggest of places, but it’s got a reputation for the cleverest puns, the steamiest situations, and a whole host of miracle cures.

People come from miles around to be cured of their ailments, and for the most part, Diagnostician Mike Shepherd and his team solve their case in a matter of days. It’s truly newsworthy.

Etc. 

But you’re not here to listen to the sciencey stuff. You’re here for the drama. The excitement! The perfectly M-rated raunchiness that can only be shown on TV at 8pm. That kind of thing. 

Like I said, it’s 9.30am, and shiz is already going down.

Immunologist Jared Morehu strolls out of one of the cleaning cupboards, clothes only slightly dishevelled, with another doctor in tow. He winks at the camera. It’s pretty obvious what’s been going on.

Keep reading

[brokenwoodfanpage]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Guess who fell behind in their own fic weeeeeek

[pav-lova]

coulrophobia

@brokenwoodfanpage‘s fic week day 3 - prompt was ‘carnival’

this story is also available on the ao3

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Sam Breen doesn’t like a lot of things. Spiders. Most bugs. Stumbling upon elderly swingers having the time of their lives - that’s a story he will never tell.

But one of the things he likes the least are clowns.

No thanks.

It’s not the result of any kind of childhood trauma, either. It’s just clowns.

Anyone who thinks that becoming a clown is a good idea is probably clinically insane.

Another carnival rolls into town and surprise, surprise - someone else gets murdered. Breen isn’t quite sure why Brokenwood is allowed to hold any events larger than 10 people any more, considering the town’s propensity for murder when they do, but CIB gets called out all the same. 

The man’s in his mid-40s, and he’s slumped over the edge of a ride cart. The ride itself is called Scared Stiff! and has a large clown mannequin attached to one side.

“It’s like a ghost train.” The ride attendant, whose name Breen has forgotten, says. “But with more clowns. Boss thought’d be a gimmick.”

“It certainly is.” Mike says, and climbs into the ride car next to the corpse.

“He was complaining of tightness in his chest when he came out.” The ride attendant adds, “Then he just- carked it.”

Well, that’s one way to describe a dead body. Breen personally wouldn’t use those terms, but he’s too busy trying not to flinch as the clown mannequin seems to stare right down at him. 

Kristen elbows him and says, “It’s looking right at you.”

“Get off.” He grunts, even though it is.

The ride attendant’s gone a bit pale now that he’s back near the body, so Mike seems to take pity on him. “Potentially a heart attack, but we won’t know more until Gina takes a look at him. I’ll have a chat. Kristen, why don’t you take Flynn aside and talk to him, Breen-”

“Yes, Senior?” Flynn, that was his name. Right.

“I want you to walk through the ride, see if you notice anything out of the ordinary.”

Mike’s got to be kidding.

…

He’s not. 

…

The next five minutes are some of the worst of Breen’s life, and he’s counting the time he was literally held at gunpoint. 

Clowns are the worst. 

[detectivefrodo]

Brokenwood Fic Week: Day 2: Forest!

Prompt by the incredible @brokenwoodfanpage!

//

The forests of Brokenwood were old and musty. They smelled like secrets, campfire smoke and pine sap. The most advertised part of these forests were the illustrious campsites, which, like the rest of new Zealand, was luckily free of bears.

And in these campsites,around a roaring fire, we find four campers: Detective Senior Sargent Mike Shepard, Detective Kristen Sims, Detective Constable Sam Breen and Wine Aficionado Jared Morehu.

Keep reading

[detectivefrodo]

Brokenwood Fic Week: Day 1: Beach!

Prompt by the wonderful @brokenwoodfanpage!

//

The beach is usually peaceful. Usually.

Today, it was not.

Brokenwood was having its semi annual surfing competition, and the community was excited, buzzing with energy.

Kristen and Sam have dragged Mike down to the beach, where they now sit under a big umbrella. Sam is busy explaining the rules to Mike when Kristen returns with three snow cones, covered with saccharine cherry and blue raspberry syrup.

They each take a cone and settle on the sand as the first surfer takes to the waves. Mike doesn’t quite understand the thrill, but can appreciate the ability to stay on top of the water. The surfer swims to shore, and the judges call out her score.

The second surfer ignores what appears to be a sportsmans handshake and Kristen furrows her brow. Still, it’s hard not to flinch when the second surfer wipes out and disappears beneath the waves. Its even harder not to worry when he doesnt resurface right away. He stays under, and stays, and stays.....

The detectives hurry to their feet as the lifeguards begin to rush into the water amid hushed whispers of the crowd. The lifeguards start shouting for the crowd to clear the beach, and they drag something back to shore.

The form of a man is laid in the sand, someone presses their hand to his neck, and shakes their head. He’s dead. They whisper “Call the police!” One shouts

“I am the police.” Mike gently pushes his way to the front of the crowd, Kristen and Sam only a few steps behind him, Kristen already pulling a small notepad from her purse.

-

The mans name is Devin Baker, 34, acclaimed surf legend, and by all accounts suffered an accidental drowning. As more of a obligation, Mike, Kristen, and Sam attend the postmortem report. When they arrived, Gina has a glint in her eye that she usually reserves for murder investigations.

“What have you Gina?” Mike tucked his hands into his pockets as he surveyed the body. “Classic drowning?”

“Well, cause of death was indeed drowning. But!” She passed over the clipboard with the file. “This man, was drugged!”

“Oh?” Kristen asked. Gina elected to ignore her.

“What do you mean?” Mike asked. Gina smiles at him.

“I do not quite know, Mike. But this was definitely not a freak drowning. Devin Baker would not drown.”

“You knew him?” Kristen asked, brow raised. Gina scoffed

“Of course I know Devin Baker, he was a fantastic surfer. You’d be a fool to not know of Devin Baker.”

“Well.” Kristen muttered under her breath as Gina returned her attention to Mike. Sam tried to suppress a laugh but ended up elbowed by Kristen regardless.

-

“So.” Sam started as he pinned a picture of Devin Baker he stole from his Instagram to the whiteboard. “This guy did not die accidentally” he raised his brows “we thinking murder?”

“It appears most likely.” Mike leaned against the table. “Who’s on the roster?”

“Jessica Perkins, the first surfer, maintains a rivalry with Devin Baker-“ Sam pinned a picture of a young woman to the board. “-Jacob Baker, the younger brother-“ A young man. “-Fiona Ryder, his fiancée-“ A smiling blond. “-Gavin Brooke, his coach-“ an older man. He turned to face the others.

“-All would have had opportunity to give him sedatives.”

“Did he have life insurance? A will?” Kristen offered.

“No life insurance, will went to his fiancée”

“Alright check her out.”

-

“The will would have provided nothing substantial. I think we can cross her off”

-

“The sedative wasn’t in his drink. It was found in his medication.”

“So the plan was to spike his meds, have him fall off his board and drown?”

“It appears so.”

-

“His heart medications were filled earlier this week by his coach.”

-

“Jacob Baker had access to needles?

“He was a nurse. Until his family forced him to move to support his brothers career.”

“A bitter abandoned brother. See if he’s been to the pharmacy lately.”

-

“You took needles and sedative from your old work. You instructed his coach to pick up his meds early and injected the sedatives into his medications.”

“I did not!”

“We checked with the hospital. The cameras show you stealing from your old station. Breen?”

“Jacob Baker, you are under arrest for the murder of Devin Baker. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say may be used as evidence against you in the court of law.”

//

So. I got a little off topic from beach,,,,, and a little distracted from actually writing a plot. But I hope the snippets were fairly entertaining to read regardless! Enjoy! Comment if you did!

[pav-lova]

final girl

written for @brokenwoodfanpage‘s fic week 2020 - prompt was ‘forest’

this is also available on the ao3

contains violence, language

-

Kristen runs, men with knives behind her, wind hitting her damp hair and sliding down the neck of her puffa jacket.

She’s drenched in blood. Some of it is hers.

Some of it isn’t.

Keep reading

[brokenwoodfanpage]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Day 1 of Fic Week 2020

[pav-lova]

beach days

@brokenwoodfanpage​‘s fic week day one - prompt was the beach.

this fic is also available on the ao3, so give it some love!

–

Mike Shepherd is on holiday. Resoundingly, absolutely on holiday. 

It’s mid-January, he’s had a busy and violent year - culminating in being held at gunpoint - and he’s at the beach to relax. Not to work. 

To relax.

He’s got a bach, he’s got a box of good wine and some books, and he’s going to live out his two weeks of leave doing nothing more than drinking his wine, eating well, and reading.

He hopes.

It’s a nice and sunny day, so he decides to take himself, his book, and his sunscreen down to the beach for a few hours. He doubts, but he might just come back with a little bit of a tan.

The beach is fairly empty when he gets there, so he sets out a towel, lathers himself liberally in his sunscreen, and opens his book.

Maybe 20 pages go by when he’s interrupted by a pair of short legs walking into one side of his peripheral vision, and kicking the sand about a bit. 

A bit of it gets in his mouth. 

He coughs, closes his book, and sits up, to find a girl, clothed in a rash shirt and swim shorts - who’s probably about six or seven - kicking the sand about next to him. Her blonde hair is wet from the sea, and she’s got a pair of massive green sunglasses perched on her head. 

She’s also staring him down like he’s got the answer to life’s most poignant questions. This is a… worry. Mike is not necessarily great with kids.

“Mummy says you were in the… newspaper.” She says, looking down at him, almost accusingly. “And that you’re a police- off-offi- policeman.”

Well, Mike can absolutely blame the Brokenwood Courier for this one. He hadn’t wanted them to run the story - but ‘local policeman gets held at gunpoint’ was apparently big news. They’d put a picture of him on the front page.

Both Breen and Kristen had mocked him for it, which was honestly, fair enough. 

“I am.” Mike says, shading his eyes with one hand. “Does your mother know you’re talking to me?”

“Yeah.” The girl pouts, and points off towards a woman sitting on a fold-up chair under a sun umbrella about twenty metres away. The woman waves, absentmindedly, in her daughter’s direction. “She’s boring. And she doesn’t care about me.”

“Really?” That, without any other context, is a little worrying.

Mike really doesn’t want to have to get CFS or anything down to the beach today… He’s supposed to be on holiday.

“Yeah.” The girl pouts even more. “Someone took the flag from my sandcastle, and it was really cool. Mum doesn’t care though. She wants to read her book.” 

Her and me both, Mike thinks, but he levers himself up on one elbow, and tries to muster up a look of shock. “That’s… very sad… uh - what’s your name?”

“Clara.” Clara says, and wrinkles up her nose. “‘Cause you do police… stuff… can you help me find it? I bet it was Sammy. He’s real mean. Mum says that you’d know what to do, like you could find it and stuff, cause you’re a real de-detect-ive(?)”

Mike heaves a heavy sigh, and hates the woman sitting in the distance, just a little bit. But, he’s nothing if not good at adapting to change, and he’s fairly sure if he says no there’ll either be tears - or annoyance - on his hands. It’s probably just easier to help. “I can, Clara. When did you last see the flag?”

In the end, they find it about ten metres down the beach from the sandcastle - probably picked up by the wind. Clara’s mum thanks him, and even offers him a couple of ornate pastries from a fancy-looking cake container.

He mightn’t be good with children, but honestly, the whole endeavour is almost worth it.

[pav-lova]

eph-em-era’s ever-expanding list of brokenwood locations/details

(ever-expanding in the sense that one day I will go back and watch all the episodes again). Hit me up if you’ve remembered any I’ve forgotten and I will update the list. these might help ya if you’re writing fic! cc @brokenwoodfanpage

Canon

- Brokenwood Courier (newspaper) - Lord of the Ringz tour (a con run by Ray Neilson, until his wife got murdered during it) - Telemore Rise (road/suburb) - Brokenwood Common - Frog and Cheetah (Ray and Trudy Neilson’s new pub) - Brokenwood Police Station - Coffee Cart (run by Kimberley and Frodo) - Brokenwood Historic Village - The City - a proxy for Auckland, basically where they call if the problem’s slightly bigger than the city. - Riverview/Riverside (??) - a town near Brokenwood (I think it’s slightly bigger than Brokenwood but I can’t remember the exact name of it) - Brokenwood Beach - flat beach with lots of dune and katipo

Non-Canon (I made these up, but use them if you like!)

- Massey Apartments (apartment block - three stories - probably the only one in the town) - Stafford Apartments, Akepiro St (torn down mid 2016) - Brokenwood Island (like Kapiti Island, and the like. Half woodland, a mountain, and historical buildings, half a little township called Sundown - like Waiheke, somewhat) - Mahurangi (big river, running near the town) - Mahurangi East (suburb, to the east of the Mahurangi) - Brokenwood 24/7 Internet Cafe (on the tin) - Harris Road (a road) - Samuel Clos (a road) - Brokenwood Campground (a campground)

[brokenwoodfanpage]

This is fantastic! Thank you!