Lauren D. Estleman "On the Significance of Boswells"/ BBC Sherlock 1.01 "A Study in Pink"/ Rocco Morabito "Kiss of Life"/ John Berryman "Eleven Addresses To The Lord"/ CBS Elementary 1.18 "Deja Vu All Over Again"/ CBS Elementary 3.14 "The Female of the Species"/ RadTechOnDuty CT Angiography/ Arthur Conan Doyle "The Boscombe Valley Mystery"/ Camonghne Felix "The Therapist Asks 3"/ CBS Elementary 1.24 "Heroine"/ Emily Gallacher Viall "How to decide which human gets your last ventilator"/ Mort Garson "Sagittarius: The Versatile Daredevil"/ Evening Standard "The Red-Headed League"/ John Masefield "The Racer"/ Lauren D. Estleman "On the Significance of Boswells"/ Winslow Homer "Life Line"/ Roger Ebert "Crash (1997)"/ Arthur Conan Doyle "The Three Garridebs"/ Frederic Leighton "An Athlete Wrestling with a Python"/ C.G. Hanzlicek "Adrenalin"/ The Return of Sherlock Holmes 4.01 "The Devil's Foot"/ Tariff Faizullah "That One Time I Stayed Up All Night Making Excuses to Talk to Danger"/ Arthur Conan Doyle "The Hound of the Baskervilles"/ J.S. Coltart "The many facets of Dr. Watson"/ Robin Jacques "The Sign of Four"
Ah yes, the one that Tumblr is constantly talking about. Also, I must confess that I gave slipped a little, it is two hours after midnight on the 16th.
(Art by Joseph Christian Leyendecker)
A. J. Raffles is a British gentleman thief, who appeared in a series of short stories between 1898 and 1909. He is said to be a kind of anti-Holmes: He lives in a rich part of London, spends his days around the upper class, and also he's a criminal. He was (and, based on what I see up here, still is) a popular character, who has appeared in a great many adaptations in different mediums.
..... Yeah, I see why Tumblr would like him. *Sigh* Added to my list.
So, i’m a little bit in love with the bog unicorn. And so is Jowan.
A Steed That Suits Him
“Talk to him.”
Cullen didn’t bother looking up from today’s pile ofpaperwork. But he did greet Holmes. He was, after all, taught to respect his elders. “Good afternoon Ser Holmes. How are you today? Oh me? I’m fine thank you.”
“Stop calling me Ser, you whelp.” The grouchy tones of the older man approached, with heavy boot steps. “He’s insane, and will only listen to you, so go out there, bat your pretty eyes at him and make that idiot see reason!”
Maybe a month or so ago, Cullen could have been annoyed at the insinuation. For now, he just sighed and finally looked up to see Holmes, still in full armour, looming over his desk with his arms crossed and uncrossing them and generally looking annoyed. Something to do with the Inquisitor then. Only Jowan could get Holmes to this level of active annoyance. “I’ll ignore that pretty remark for now.” He warned, waving his pen at the man. “But instead focus on the point, I see you’re back from the Fallow Mire.” Cullen drily, recognizing some of the lingering stench of the swamp clinging to Holmes.
“Yes. And he brought it home with him.” Holmes said, still damnably vague and still terribly annoyed, bordering on actually angry. “The bloody idiot has ridden it from the damn bog to all the way here to your fucking Skyhold and HE WON’T LEAVE IT BEHIND.”
Cullen narrowed his eyes at the older man, elder or no, he didn’t take well to being yelled at in his own bloody office. “I could POSSIBLY help you.” He said in clipped tones, “If you could stop being annoyed at Jowan long enough and explain to me what in the Void you’re so bloody annoyed about.”
Holmes made a low guttural sound of annoyance and rounded on him, dragging him by the arm out of his chair. Surprised, and the old man was stronger than he looked, Cullen went with him as he was dragged all the way to the battlements. Holmes then pointed to a small commotion just at the bridge of Skyhold, “There, That heathen brought back another bloody heathen with him!”
There was a small circle of people, some of them his soldiers with their weapons drawn. Cullen opened up his mouth to command them to stand down, alarmed at the sight of them drawing steel against their Inquisitor (yet again) when he finally took note of what it was they were nervous about.
Jowan, in his dark coloured armour, was astride a massive beast. It was a in the shape of a horse, and black as pitch, if not darker. From the battlements, even Cullen could see something bright shining in the creature’s eyes, bright red like blood.
Fear roiled in his stomach as he shook off Holmes’ hold on his arm to clatter down his own stairs to the gates, barely remembering to pick up his own sword as he did. “Make way!” he hollered, commanding his troops to fall back before him, revealing Jowan and his steed as they parted, weapons still drawn.
“Hullo Cullen.” Jowan greeted him placidly, as the creature let out a wicker that echoed oddly in the afternoon light. “Thank you for coming down to meet me, you didn’t have to.”
“Hullo Jowan.” Cullen said with a tight smile, one eye on the creature (who was eying him up as much as he was it) and one eye on Jowan’s clear calm expression, which always meant he knew damn well what he was doing and was prepared to be stubborn about it, the bastard. “Holmes said you brought, uhm, something home from the Fallow Mire.”
“Well, to be fair, he followed me home.” Jowan said with a cheery smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Oh boy, Cullen thought with a groan, he was going to be very stubborn about this. Jowan reached down and patted the flank of the creature. “Helped us take down a few stubborn undead too. Quite useful, what with his horn and all.”
It was then that Cullen finally took note of what else was troubling him about the creature, beyond the Void damned sounds and the bright red eyes. Right out of the middle of his forehead, there was a sword sticking out, pointy end out, as if the hilt was buried right where the creature should have it’s brain. “Ah, Useful.” He repeated with a wan smile, peering at the creature, who simply stared at him. It was a chilly feeling, stared back by what seems to be a horse made out of the darkness of the void itself, intelligence and, well, not malice, but the same sort of wickedness that shone out of Jowan’s own eyes when he was being particularly contrary.
“Like a unicorn.” Jowan said, startling Cullen out of the impromptu staring match he was having with the creature. “A Bog Unicorn.”
“And undead bog unicorn.” Cullen sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes in resignation. “You cannot possibly mean to use this creature, do you, Inquisitor?”
“And why not?” Jowan said, that defiance creeping into his voice, no matter how jovial he made it sound. Cullen had spoken to the man enough times to know when he was honestly happy, rare enough as it was. And this time wasn’t one of them. “Seems to suit me.”
“It’s a creature, possibly undead and looks evil.” Cullen said with a sigh, looking up at Jowan with a desperate expression.
Jowan’s expression hardened for a moment, just long enough for Cullen to notice. “As I said, it suits me.” He said simply, before looking away and giving the troops a smile. “Come along folks, Ser Stabbity has had a long ride, and I think he deserves some time in the stable. Call the horse master for us, Harold isn’t it? You’re from the Fallow Mire too aren’t you?” He addressed the only other soldier who didn’t have his sword out. “Run on ahead and give him a holler to get ready for his new charge.” At that, Jowan spurned the horse on to jog forward, without so much as a backwards glance at Cullen.
Cullen sighed. “Ser Stabbity?” he said softly, shaking his head, already hearing the screech of surprise from the people in the hold as Jowan entered. He could feel another headache threatening at the back of his eyes.
