waid: (Default)
So the other day I made an ungodly chimera of Jude Law's and Vitaly Solomin's Watsons. He was not a bad creature, but decidedly sweaty and sickly looking and not quite as pretty as might have been hoped. And I happened to mention that if I had the software, I would probably be unable to resist the temptation to start improving him and putting colour in his cheeks and removing the tweed melded onto his neck. So then [livejournal.com profile] f_m_r_l  had to go and point me to such free software, obliterating my productivity at a stroke, for now there was nothing to hold me back from trying to use the poor tormented Law/Solomin hybrid as a template to create the Perfect Composite Watson of my Dreams.

(Thus we are back to "What am I Doing?" again.)

But look at him!

Yeah. Like that. Except without the subtle wonky creepiness that comes of looking at his eyes for too long and the suspicion there is something terribly wrong with the bones of his skull. And he should be a thought less ginger.
waid: (Default)
... has anything better to do than use morphthing to create a cross between Solomin!Watson and Law!Watson?

Hmm. Morph!Watson somehow looks older than either one of his daddies, and inevitably he's a wee bit uncanny valley but he's not without a certain something, I feel.  He's not unlike Paget!Watson, with a less nightmarish moustache. If I had photoshop, I might be tempted to fix the lighting and the corpselike yet sweaty texture of his skin. And I'd want to do something about the way Jude Law's collar is tattooed onto his neck. So it's probably a good thing I don't have photoshop.

waid: (Default)
Oh God it is 2.30 in the morning and this installment is so damn nearly finished  but not quite. Very, very mildly spoilery whining about research problems.  )
waid: (Default)
I owe comments and replies to EVERYONE IN THE WORLD. EVERYONE AND THEIR MUMS. And an update to W.I.L which I thought would be done on MONDAY.I'm sorry, everyone in the world! Work, food poisoning, medication side-effect shenanigans, and more work, but I'm on it, I'm on it, and now I've done my work and it's time I had some play...

I went to London the other day and there was MORE TRAIN SLASH. This time, at Charing Cross, a gang of youths are walking down one of the passages. "Are you playing the Gay Bisexual card?" says one, and I reflect that he does not seem to know what those words mean. Then he adds, "...because... THAT'S MY CARD,"  cheerfully flings his friend up against wall, and gets all gropey.

I told my friend Roz, who said "Oh my God, it's finally happened. There is now so much slash fanfiction in the world it's started to bleed into reality, and annoying straight men really are going to be having sex with each other all the time. You are the tipping point." 

waid: (angst)
The Adventure of the Dying Detective AU. For [livejournal.com profile] ingridmatthews ' prompt - "I read the AU where Watson gets poisoned. I now want to read the one where Watson DIES because Holmes is a drama queen."
Warnings: Well, see prompt. It's evil and horrible and you don't want to read it! But at least it's short.

Infallibly Deadly )
waid: (pretentious)
I've been listening to Alkaline Trio's 'Fuck You Aurora' a lot when working on the old endless fic o' doom lately.

..."My my what a mess was made
Of my head when I heard what you'd been through that day..."

I can only find a cover of the damn thing.

/is a loser. I can't help it! I do this with everything. Maybe RDJ!Holmes can have Private Eye some day if he's good.

Latest installments of Winter in London, thisaway:  Part IX   Part X  Part XI
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It's SO long, that I'm going to split it into two EDIT; THREE! MOTHERFUCKING THREE! parts after all, with the first part being what I've already posted on the memes, so, don't feel conned if you've already read that, because there's more!

I swear they will eventually be doing things in places other than the living room at Baker Street.

ETA: LJ MADE ME POST IT IN THREE PARTS!  I DIDN'T WANT TO DO THAT. Tell me if anything doesn't make sense, I meant to be done with this rather before 3 in the morning and I now have no idea what making sense even looks like.
waid: (Default)
This evening I went to a party, not wholly, but definitely partly, because it was at the Sherlock Holmes pub  near Charing Cross. Then I left early because I wanted to write Sherlock Holmes fanfiction. I think that sets some new pinnacle of tragic nerdery. 

On the train home I sat next to the loo so that I could stealthily power up my laptop from the nearby socket that is Not For Public Use. Opposite me sat two youngish men who were amused by my electricity-stealing shenanigans. They were also in a state of some raucousness and talking a lot about girls and shagging them.
Bloke 1: Is there SMUT on your computer?
Waid: *careful facial control*   No.
Bloke 1: *looks over shoulder at screen* UGH THAT'S DISGUSTING. *pause for reaction that doesn't come.* SHE'S LOOKING AT PORN! 
Waid: *looks completely  innocent*
Laptop screen: *looks completely innocent though Sherlock Holmes is in fact being desperately in love with Watson all over it*
Bloke 1: *has no actual idea* Oh, never mind

(Not that Winter in London IS smut, but... you know.).

Bloke 2, to Waid: It's tough being the sober  one, isn' t it?
Bloke 1: Don't apologise for me! I'm not that drunk. Anyway, you love it when I'm drunk! That's the only time you get to POUND MY ARSE. Here, I'm going to the toilet, DO YOU WANT TO COME WITH ME?
Bloke 2 *laughing fondly*: No thanks.
Blokes 1 & 2: *Continue to talk loudly about having sex with each other, while Waid continues to write slash fanfiction.*

Eventually Blokes 1 & 2 get off the train, paving the way for Blokes 3 & 4, who are strangers to each other.

Bloke 3: *Enters loo. Fails to lock door.*
Bloke 4: *Opens loo door.* Oh. Oh dear. I'm sorry.
Bloke 3: Oh dear.  I'm sorry. *Shuts door*
Bloke 4, to Waid: Well. That's good then. Something different on a Friday night. *walks away*

In short, it was the slashiest train ride ever. This was not actually at all erotic, but it was quite entertaining.
waid: (angst)
I was kind of holding off on posting until I could put up something in which, you know, plot happened, as opposed to all wangst, all the time, but Holmes is being so blasted cagy with information I need to get him to reveal that it makes the "not playing any fucking Grieg" debacle look like a boy scout on bob-a-job week and I thought 1500 words of everyone just moping is better than no bread, right? 

So there's more Winter in London here in meme 1

Or here in meme 2

Whichever you prefer!

As soon as I get more finished I'll bring it across here. Going to  keep kicking Holmes until he capitulates tonight and see how far I get.
waid: (Default)

Well, that was a flailing, cracky, Gothic mess.  Prophetic dreams?! Come on, no. Some very weird writing, Brett at his most mannered, women in "Oh dear, try to kill me, would you? Well I will just stand here and scream" distress.

Really, I don't think Holmes at his most antisocial, nutty and sleep-deprived. would actually tell a woman to her horribly disfigured face that he envied her for having such a worthy adversary as the man who'd had this done to her and possibly murdered her sister. And I am certain that Watson would never leave a man, even a murderer, to be mauled to death by a leopard (?!). He tended to Baron Gruner after he'd tried to kill him and Holmes, for heaven's sake.
On the plus side: there can never be enough of 1) Holmes in a glorious floor-length nightshirt in the street; 2, Watson silently putting blankets round him, 3 super-intelligent bonkers women killing people and winning Holmes' admiration and tenderness.

I kind of ship Crazy Brett Holmes/Crazy Lady Helena now. Yes, I think he could be a little bit straight for someone as insane and brilliant as that. They could have fun scientifically destroying buildings together.

Appropriate icon is appropriate.

ETA: It did not have my "Cocaine?/NO Holmes!" scene in it. Woe.
waid: (cocaine)
I'm watching the Eligible Bachelor on Youtube. (*neeeeeds DVDs*) Brett!Holmes, mate. If you're still THAT angsty over the Reichenbach falls, would it maybe be a good idea to NOT have a big poster of them over your fireplace? Yes, Mycroft seems to have put it there, which was a rather weird thing to do. But you can take it down, I'm sure he won't mind. Just a thought.

I have this memory of watching the series as a kid and there being this scene with Holmes all collapsed/sick/messed up in some way, I think in bed, possibly on the sofa, and a stern, worried, exasperated Watson coming in and...

Brett!Holmes: *weakly* Cocaaaaine... bottle...?
Somebody!Watson:  NO, Holmes!

Will I find it in this episode, I wonder?  Or did I make it up? I was only a little girl, why would I do such a thing?

It was lovely to watch The Illustrious Client and find it contained not one but two of my favourite lines which had randomly stayed with me for twenty years. I knew *VITRIOL FACE-SPLASH!* "There! Be done by as you did!" was in it and was awaiting it with glee, but  getting "I will shoot you through the head, rather than the heart" was an unexpected bonus.

I am not sure why those lines struck mini-Waid as quite so fabulous and worth treasuring for years but they did. "I will shoot you through the head, rather than the heart." Mmm. Brrrr.

God, the series did wonderful things with light and shadow. The "Camera shifts from main character getting beaten up to huge menacing shadows of assailants thrashing him on wall" thing, for example, is such a cliche but it's just done so gorgeously it makes me purr.

waid: (angst)
SADFACE. It is [livejournal.com profile] ingridmatthews' fault. I dunno, should I bring this across here? I almost feel it's TOO EVIL and MISERABLE and may taint and damage my other stories in which clearly nothing bad happens to anyone.

Also, a tragic lack of anyone lying on a flat surface with someone else bending over them. What is that? Well, there's soooort of Mary bending over Watson, but it's just spooning on a bed and they're lying on their SIDES and that DOES NOT COUNT.
waid: (Default)
I have just realised that of my stories so far, all but ONE of them feature Holmes at some point all sprawled and collapsed and supine on a flat surface with somebody bending over him. Somebody usually being Watson, of course, but on one occasion being the Tenth Doctor. Yes, it even happens in the time-travel-to-1989 one.  Now, admittedly I'm still fairly new at all this, and I knew I had a liking for this sort of thing, but five out of six! That's already getting slightly ridiculous, no?

This is nevertheless actually me being disciplined - this is me RESISTING the temptation to have Holmes not merely collapsed but also CRADLED IN WATSON'S ARMS, which I have only indulged  in once. So far.

(Okay... there's a situation coming up... but it doesn't count if they're on a settee. Right?)

I must change. I must have WATSON all sprawled and collapsed and supine on a flat surface with somebody bending over him!

Anyhow, let me explain part of the reason why writing the last chapter took a while. Mainly just because it did, and there was real life and all of that.

But also because of the following nonsense:

Waid: Mendelssohn – no! Albinoni – no! Beethoven - no! Bach -  Yes! No. Yes! No. Zigeunerweisen – Yes! By Sarasate, like in the Red-Headed League! Perfect... Wait. No. No, it’s sad, but too crazy. But sad and crazy is good! Yes!  ...No. It sounds kind of SEXY and sad and crazy, and that doesn’t work. Well, what about Grieg...

Head!Holmes: *inexplicably refuses to play Grieg*

Waid: What? Why? Do you not like Grieg? I like Grieg! Listen to this. It’s sad, it’s lovely, it’s in the period, what’s wrong with it?

Head!Holmes: *won’t touch violin*

Waid: It’s... not mentioned in the canon, but neither is Gluck and you seem okay with that.

Head!Holmes: *is unforthcoming*

Waid: Is Grieg... naff to you, in some way? Is this like that bit in Buffy where Giles was forced by cruel and stupid writers to say he liked the Bay City Rollers?

Head!Holmes: *Does not answer because he is not real* *Still not playing any fucking Grieg, though.*

Waid: For heaven’s sake. If I actually had anything more than a superficial and charlatanish understanding of classical music disproportionately supported by Youtube, then it might make some sense for  fictional characters I’m messing around with to start getting all precious about it.  But in fact, I do not. YOU WILL PLAY THE DAMN GRIEG AND YOU WILL LIKE IT, MY BOY.

Head!Holmes: *will not play the Grieg*

Waid: Oh, FINE.But I'm going to write you a nightmare now.

This is a really stupid reason to have my understanding and appreciation of classical/romantic/baroque /everything music improving so much.
waid: (Default)
Okay, there really will be more Winter in London tomorrow. I have about 1600 words of it that I should love to put up now, but there remains some tinkering with violins and cocaine to be done. And it is, once again and most inconveniently, 2.30 am. À demain!

(Well, technically, it IS tomorrow, but you know what I mean.)

ETA: TInkering forsooth. 2300 MOTHERFUCKING WORDS OF ANGST!!
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