Apr. 6th, 2010

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There's moooooooore Winter In London at the meme! And will be more still very, very soon, possibly even tonight!

But now you can't SEE  properly that it's there because the thread... nesting... thingy... you know what I mean... is all messed up. Never mind.


A SMALL DOMESTIC DRAMA

Waid is visiting her parents.

Waidmother:
What are you writing? Can I read it?
Waid:
Nothing. And no.

--Time passes --

Waidmother: No really, what are you doing?
Waid: OKAY FINE I AM WRITING SHERLOCK HOLMES FANFICTION I CAN IF I WANT I FIND IT THERAPEUTIC STOP JUDGING ME I AM HARMING NO ONE.
Waidmother: But why do you want to do this? And I'm not judging you! ...much.
Waidbrother: Haha. Haha. You're writing slash! Slash is silly.
Waid: What are you doing?
Waidbrother: Writing the perfect version of the Doctor Who theme tune for my private satisfaction!
Waid: *eyebrow*
Waidbrother: Point.

Waidfather:
*is not very interested in this conversation.*

--Today--

Waid: Daaaaaaaad.
Waidfather: Yeeeeeees?
Waid: Daaaaaaaaad, I need John Watson to be doing something, anything, in a professional capacity that isn't immediately related to Sherlock Holmes? Like, I would have him seeing patients, but this is in 1886 and he's not married and he only resumed civil practice  AFTER he married which was probably in 1888? So I thought some kind of journalism but I don't know what and do you have any ideas? ALLOW ME TO GIVE YOU A SHORT PRECIS OF HIS  CAREER FOR BACKGROUND.
Waidfather; ...Why are you doing this?
Waid: Oh. All kinds of reasons! It reminds me writing that can be fun! It allows me to wallow in angst! I love getting comments! And, finally, one benefit of an education in which all of literature stopped around 1922 is that I SPEAK VICTORIAN. And it's fun to exercise this otherwise not-that-useful skill. Also the hotness. I didn't say that.
Waidfather: Hmm, I see! I understand!  Watson could be could be contributing to a medical journal.
Waid: But could he? If he's not actually practicing? Would they not laugh at him and say "Go home, gimp-boy"?
Waidfather: Sure he could! And no!

Waid: *Does endless, endless, you-have-no-idea research on Doyle's medical writings on the grounds that if he did it, Watson can too.*. POISONS! Oh my God POISONS! Why didn't I think of that it's so obvious! Doyle did a paper on Gelthemium, that's a herb, what else is there...  Baptisia... OH MY GOD it is poisonous but is also used in the treatment of ENTERIC FEVER THIS IS FATE.

--Time passes --

Waid is about to go home.

Waidfather: When you've finished this Sherlock Holmes thing, do let me read it!


(YOU KNOW. THE ONE WITH THE RAPE IN IT.)

(Which I have endeavoured to treat sensitively and seriously and non-exploitatively. However I still don't want my DAD reading it.) 

(WHAT THE HELL AM I GOING TO DO.)

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