Entry tags:
ficlets100 - number seven.
001. | Guilt | 002. | New | 003. | Solitude | 004. | Content | 005. | Tale |
006. | Distort | 007. | Luxury | 008. | Listen | 009. | Party | 010. | Scent |
011. | Storm | 012. | Lessons | 013. | Apology | 014. | Relief | 015. | Breeze |
016. | Fading | 017. | Passion | 018. | Stay | 019. | Rain | 020. | Within |
021. | Dread | 022. | Revenge | 023. | Time | 024. | Perfect | 025. | Eyes |
026. | Bloom | 027. | Beginning | 028. | Bath | 029. | Object | 030. | Lost |
031. | Pride | 032. | Death | 033. | Dance | 034. | Remember | 035. | Savage |
036. | Late | 037. | Crossroads | 038. | Change | 039. | Hope | 040. | Dawn |
041. | Hero | 042. | Annoy | 043. | Trouble | 044. | Imagine | 045. | Believe |
046. | Words | 047. | Home | 048. | Understand | 049. | Cage | 050. | Animal |
051. | Woods | 052. | Fun | 053. | Dare | 054. | Spell | 055. | Pray |
056. | Warmth | 057. | Mess | 058. | Leap | 059. | Attention | 060. | Shopping |
061. | Dessert | 062. | Paper-cut | 063. | Compromise | 064. | Mouth | 065. | Gone |
066. | Intuition | 067. | Fairies | 068. | Gift | 069. | Priceless | 070. | Jewel |
071. | Grin | 072. | Quake | 073. | Blush | 074. | System | 075. | Pressure |
076. | Crash | 077. | Closer | 078. | Break | 079. | Habit | 080. | Safe |
081. | Confusion | 082. | Someday | 083. | Instigate | 084. | Goodnight | 085. | Paint |
086. | Always | 087. | Guide | 088. | Embrace | 089. | Fall | 090. | Help |
091. | Different | 092. | Anticipation | 093. | Real | 094. | Enough | 095. | Again |
096. | Glorify. | 097. | Lack thereof. | 098. | Fix. | 099. | Smile. | 100. | A little. |
sherlock bbc. -> ⌈52.⌋ Fun.
"These bits really are nasty. They get all wrapped up in your talons, there's nowhere to sit without /something/ catching a bit of static shock; downright infuriating, isn't it?"
"Yes, it most certainly is! Why, when I was a hatchling, they kept them all in town. Now look at them, strung all over the countryside, it's dreadful..."
"I'd say so. They should really go back to being underground."
"Shame, simply a shame."
"What /are/ you two prattling on about? No, wait, I don't want to know." A dark head appeared over an open toolbox's lid, eyes squinting at the two perched on a too-close-for-safety-regulations-but-no-one-could-bring-themselves-to-care willow branch until one brought herself up in silence and the other hunkered down with a shadow of annoyance. The first snorted, returned his eyes and claw-tip to the box, hind claws readjusting their grip on the edge.
"Sherlock, dear, what are you doing, exactly?" That was her - a wheezy voice, sort of, in the way that all elder dragons had the tendency to get wheezy when their breath turned more smoke than flame. The dark head didn't reappear.
He sing-songed back in a flat, bored voice, "Never you mind, Lady Hudson," which had the old girl clacking her teeth at him and stretching thin, popping wing joints out. She gave an exasperated, 'just make sure you're both roosting by dusk, please' look toward her other companion, of which she got a big of a rolling shrug in return. She took that, though -
"Make sure you're at the nest by dusk, Sherlock!"
- Had to say her point aloud, and swept off the branch with enough clumsy force that John thought he might've seen a few leaves fall. He worried for a second that she wouldn't catch the wind before hitting the ground, but then she was on an updraft and something that sounded like a long, drawn-out lightning crack rippled across the air, had him scrambling to keep from immediately swooping off himself. He shook himself for it; he had better nerves than that!
Still, the sound of a crowing-with-laughter Sherlock didn't make him feel better. Turned out, he found out as he looked over, that the reason the (overgrown winged lizard--!) dragon was crowing because he was /perched/ like a crow, claws gripping the wire tight with his wings out for balance, tail and neck all set up for arrogance, mouth stretching wide with just the right amount of teeth.
"Oh, come off it," John had to say, even though he was a bit impressed. Even more impressed when there was absolutely no light hogging up the sky that night, but he wouldn't mention that. He hopped from the branch to the telephone post, walking with just a bit of cautious over the large rods. They had said the new toolboxes were lizard-proof: evidently not. "Your spine's going to get stuck like that one of these days."